


dressed too nice for a jacket, so i'm freezing

by herecomesthepun



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecomesthepun/pseuds/herecomesthepun
Summary: He patters down the hall to the door, which is wedged open by a ballet flat. He pushes at it and it opens to a fire escape, staring out across the expanse of a muggy New York afternoon, the clouds swollen and angry-looking, and another stray ballet flat, and then—A girl, curled up against the edge of it like a surly kitten, bare feet swinging in the breeze, cigarette between her fingers.She’s tall and willowy, with curly blonde hair and a mouthful of smoke. Everything about her feels poised and delicate, but almost too much so, like if you poke her she’ll crumple to pieces. Her legs are long but fragile, and her face is pretty but gaunt.She’s beautiful, but in the way that makes you ache, because a happy person doesn’t look like that.The girl blows a cloud of smoke out into the sky. “Are you just gonna stand there staring at me?” she asks, not looking at him. Percy starts, a little guiltily. He hadn’t known she realised he was there. “Because it’s making me feel weird.”or, Percy and Annabeth are models, there are lots of milkshakes, and Aphrodite is kind of awesome.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 238





	dressed too nice for a jacket, so i'm freezing

**Author's Note:**

> originally published on ff.net 29/7/19

Percy’s first thought upon walking in is, _there’s no way they’re related_.

His initial impression of Piper McLean from all those days ago was that she looked like she had just crawled out of a dumpster, and as it turns out that’s kind of an aesthetic she’s got going on because today she looks exactly the same. Her clothes are all stretched and faded, pieces that probably were once bright colours but are now a whisker from beige, and every fingernail is painted a different colour and bitten right down to the quick. She smells of peaches and a sickly-sweet perfume Percy thinks she might be wearing ironically, and next to Aphrodite she looks like a homeless beggar. (Aphrodite’s wearing floor-length silk and a feather boa. Really, enough is said.)

He’d done his research, okay. It’s not every day you get approached in the park by someone asking if you’ve ever considered professional modelling and whether you’d would be up for it that weekend. He had looked up the business card the girl had handed him and together he and Thalia had done their reading.

It was an offer to be in a shoot for _Eros_ , which is branch of the Apollo photography magazine. It’s focused on human anatomy, with a different theme every month. It’s run by Aphrodite Olympus, self-made millionaire, and also mother to about seven hundred children.

(“I sleep with a lot of men,” she said once in an interview. “And then I adopt their children.”

The interviewer had been speechless for about ten seconds. Percy had felt kind of similarly.)

The girl who had come up to him in the park turned out to be one of her daughters, Piper. She’s twenty-three and a photographer for Eros, and also the person who’s just greeted them at the door. Now she sits next to Aphrodite at the desk in her faded clothes and scuffed sneakers and choppy hair, her fingers dancing over his portfolio photos, and they look so far from related it’s almost laughable.

Key word: almost. Percy is so nervous he thinks if he laughs he might throw up.

“I had a look at your portfolio,” Aphrodite says. “I was very impressed.”

Percy heaves a silent sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he says.

Piper is looking down at them studiously. “Who did these for you?”

“Uh,” Percy says.

“A friend,” Thalia says. “From a—photography course.”

(It was done by Thalia with her camera phone, slouched in the bath with her feet above her head and Percy trying not to look like he wasn’t standing on a toilet seat because the window above the toilet had nice natural light and also because all the other walls in the apartment were covered in scuff marks and pizza stains from previous tenants.)

Piper smiles, and looks back down at the pictures. She absolutely knows that’s a lie, Percy can tell, but she seems reasonably impressed by what’s in front of her, so he counts it as a win.

“Have you ever done this before?” Aphrodite asks.

“Come around to a stranger’s studio?”

“Modelled, darling.”

“Oh. No.”

“Good.” She looks back down at his pictures. “I love discovering new talent.”

Percy furrows his eyebrows. “Being—pretty is a talent?”

She laughs. “Of course not! That part’s the easy part, and requires zero talent. A couple thousand dollars, maybe, if you want a nose job, but I can smell out silicone implants like a hound dog, and I will not be taking any girls with any augmentations because this magazine is all about celebrating the natural. I meant the actual modelling.” She pushes his pictures towards him. “Look at this! The way you hold yourself!” (That was his I-think-toilet-just-water-splashed-on-my-bare-feet look.) “You have such a magnetism about yourself! Look at you! And the way even the photo was taken – the light is impeccable, and I love the graininess effect you have going on.”

Percy forces a laugh. “Yes, that was incredibly intentional.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about doing a vintage-inspired shoot for a while now. I might actually ask you for the number of the girl who took this, I love the effect of it.”

Next to him, Thalia stifles a laugh. Piper looks very amused.

“Honestly,” Aphrodite says, “I love it.” She looks at Piper. “Darling?”

“You’ve kind of said everything,” Piper says. “Even though these were done by an—amateur photographer” – she gives them a sparkly-eyed look and Thalia smirks knowingly – “they’re really well done, and Percy, your poses and general stance are really powerful. The way you hold yourself is pretty incredible, considering you’ve never done this before, and I think you’d be a really good asset to team.”

Aphrodite nods. “I agree. You’re hired.”

Percy sits up. “Seriously?”

“ _Seriously_?” Thalia echoes.

“Well,” Piper amends, “we’ll have to do a test run first. We need to see whether or not you fit in with the general vibe and aesthetic of the general magazine, and also, of course, you’ll be working with a partner, so we’ll have how you both work together.”

“Ah, yes,” Aphrodite says. “Annabeth. She’s a good girl, she is. A bit standoffish, but if you two click I don’t doubt I’ll have the shoot of the season. I might even have to make it front cover.”

Thalia frowns. “What do you mean, if they click? Shouldn’t that sort of thing be a guarantee?”

Aphrodite sighs. “Unfortunately, darlings, Annabeth is not—it has been a bit of a struggle to find her a good working partner that she has chemistry with.”

“Then dump her and hire someone else,” Thalia says. “I’m not letting my client be toyed around with on the basis of whether he clicks with someone.”

_My client_. Percy thinks his ensuing eyeroll nearly rolls his eyes right out of his head.

“Annabeth is a very beautiful girl,” Aphrodite explains. “Her presence on camera—it’s inexplicable, really. She is one of the best models we’ve ever had. We used to use her just for singular shoots, cover her in body paint and glitter, all that sort of thing, and personally I thought they were gorgeous, but then I saw the way she was around my Piper, and I just knew that was another side we needed to capture. Unfortunately, she’s very particular about her partners. I’m just hoping you two will hit it off, because if you do, I think you could even make the cover.”

Oh. This should be easy. “I’m quite good with people,” Percy says. “I think I actually have a pack of cards in my pocket.” He digs around, just to check, and then produces them. “Yep! Knew they were still in there.” He blows off a piece of lint. “Sorry they’re a bit fluffy, they accidentally got in the wash.”

Thalia’s face does something very complicated. “We really need to talk about interview etiquette,” she mutters to him.

But Aphrodite looks thrilled. “Oh, that’s _magnificent_!” she says. “I’m sure Annabeth will like that. She’s very brainy, that girl. Loves a game of chess. Cards is quite similar, isn’t it?”

Piper says, “Not really.”

“Oh, well. There must be some variation. Maybe you can make card towers. Oh! Brain wave! Piper, write that down. We should do a shoot with card towers someday, about the intricacies and fragility of relationships. Sorry, dears, I forget myself. What were we talking about? Right, cards! Yes, don’t worry, Percy, dear. That sounds like the kind of thing Annabeth would enjoy. Right, Piper?”

Piper looks amused, but also a little wary. “Uh—”

“Of course she does, everyone does. You know, my first husband used to carry around—”

“Okay, Mom. Let’s—not talk about that.”

“Okay,” Aphrodite says easily. “Percy, are you ready to a shoot now?”

And, uh.

“Um,” he says. “Like— _now_ , now?”

“Yes, of course.” Percy’s face still must be the epitome of what the youth call “shook”, because she laughs and says, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing official! We won’t even put you in hair and makeup for that long. I just want to see how well you photograph and how you work with Annabeth. This is the test run, so to speak. If you pass this then you’re hired.”

“Are you not even going to let him prepare?” Thalia asks.

Aphrodite laughs, like she’s just said something hilarious. “Darling, of course not! We want to see how well you work in your natural environment.”

If natural environment means being thrown straight into the deep end he thinks his natural environment might include acute vertigo and lots of underarm sweating.

“Cool,” he manages. “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

“Piper will show you to hair and makeup team,” Aphrodite says. To Piper, she says, “We’ll meet you in Studio C in about twenty minutes, okay, darling?”

“Sure,” Piper says, standing up. She nudges Percy as she comes around the desk. “Come on, superstar, time to make you look pretty.”

The amount of people Percy gets introduced to is almost dizzying. As far as he knows, the shoot he’s doing today is even that big, just a small test-trial to see if he works, but if even half the people he’s shaken the hands of today are working on him he’s not even sure if he’s going to recognise himself once he comes out of makeup. There have to be over twenty, at least.

What can twenty different people even do for one person, anyway? Is one person in charge of holding his toenail clippings or something?

Most of the people are perfectly lovely, but the standout is the hair and makeup girl, Drew. Piper rolls her eyes when they approach Drew’s station, which Percy takes as a bad sign, and an even worse sign when Drew cuts her eyes at her and Piper does a sarcastic curtsey and then floats away, leaving them alone.

“Uh,” he says. “Hello.”

She’s shorter than him by a good several inches but the look she flicks him as soon as he speaks is enough to make his throat instantly dry.

“Are you the newbie?” she asks, and he nods. “Ugh. Sit down, then.”

Slightly afraid, he slinks into the chair. She skulks behind him and rests her hands on her shoulders. In the mirror, he can see that each fingernail is tipped with a long, razor-ship neon pink nail. “All right,” she says. “I have a few rules. Nod if you understand me.”

Percy nods.

“Rule one, don’t talk. I want to be able to spend however long it takes for Chase to decide you’re not good enough for her enjoying the way you look, and I’ve worked here long enough to know that nine times out of ten as soon as you start talking it all goes out the window. Are we understood?”

Percy nods again.

“Rule two. What I say goes. Aphrodite likes a bit of glitz and glamour. You look like your stereotypical straight boy – bi, maybe, but definitely not gay, and I doubt you even know what pan is – which means that if you start putting up a fuss about me putting you in makeup and sparkles I will cut out your tongue.”

“I like sparkles,” Percy says without thinking.

She digs her nails into his shoulders. “Literally, what did I say?”

“But—”

“Just shut up.”

Percy mimes zipping his lips.

Mercifully, she pulls her nails from where they were cutting grooves in his shoulders, and stares at him very hard in the mirror. “Last rule,” she says evenly. “Be careful.”

Which the _last_ thing he’s expecting. Maybe something about him meddling with her palettes and what will happen to his genitals if he tries, but to be careful? He immediately forgets Rule One. “Careful of what?”

She flicks him again. This time the edge of her long, sharp nails catch the side of his head and he hisses.

“Ow!”

“Rule one!”

“Why do I have to be careful?”

Drew rolls her eyes. “Look. You seem like a nice kid. A little on the douchey side, but I suppose you can’t help that, although follow my advice when I say never wear those shoes again. I know you’re working with Chase as her partner. Everyone’s going to sugarcoat it because somehow she wormed her freaky little way into Aphrodite’s heart and she’s best friends with Piper, but I’m not here to make friends. That girl is a fricking _psycho_.”

Percy frowns. “Psycho?”

“She’s crazy. She’s made out of titanium. She is terrible at making friends and she does it on purpose. You’ll try to be polite to her and she’ll freeze you out immediately. In the past two months she’s gone through seven different partners, and that’s all after the first shoot. And none of them even get published! You want to know why? Because she’s unhinged. She hates everyone and the reason why she can never settle on one partner is because she’s crap at being a decent human. It’s this game she plays. She lures you in because she’s pretty and smokes and all her partners are like, _wow, I want to fix her with my magical dick_ , and unless your name is Piper McLean and you look like a skunk died on top of your head it doesn’t work. You look slightly more intelligent than that, as in instead of _I want to fix her with my magical dick_ it’s _I want to fix her with the power of love_ , which arguably is worse, so let me tell you right now – it’s not going to work. Even if you are smarter than all the other guys who’ve walked in here thinking they’re going to be the one to break through her mask with the power of their shiny abs, you’re not. Okay?”

Robotically, Percy nods.

Who _is_ this mysterious Annabeth Chase?

Piper still hasn’t come back by the time Drew finishes terrorising Percy in the makeup chair. He clambers out of the chair, feeling disoriented, with so much gel in his hair he’s surprised he’s able to hold his head up.

“You’re welcome,” Drew says. “As opposed to blotchy college student running on Cheetos and two hours of sleep, you now look like exactly the same, but now at least with good hair and clear skin.”

Honestly, it’s the nicest thing she’s said to him so far, so he takes it. “Where do I go now?”

“I don’t know, nor do I care.” She pulls out a nail file, and gives him a pointed look. “Don’t be late. Annabeth gets pissy when her conquests—sorry, _partners_ aren’t punctual.”

“You’re really helpful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” Drew says. “Now get away from me, if talk to me anymore I think I might break out in hives.”

Percy rolls his eyes at her, but she’s already turned away.

He decides to do a bit of exploring. He’s sure if he was needed then Piper would have come to collect him by now, so he must have some time to just roam free and properly look at the studio he might come to work out. He slips out of the makeup station and down a corridor, peeping through all the glass windows in the doors he passes to see what exactly goes on in a modelling studio.

It’s all pretty surreal, to be honest. He never expected to be a ‘model’, and that’s in inverted commas because he still doesn’t believe it. For goodness sake, in high school he only had one girlfriend, and it’s still a mystery for the gods on how he ended up with her, because he was an awkward little schmuck with hair that always too long, sticky-out ears and the worst acne a teenager could have. He’s never really given much thought into how conventionally attractive he is – but he never thought it could land up paying his bills.

He somehow lands up in a corridor covered in elaborate prints from presumably previous shoots. He steps up close to them. There must be dozens of them, all in silver frames, and with little dates stamped in the bottom corner. All of the people in them are, understandably, quite stunning – some are covered in body paint, some in soft sweaters, some alone, some with other people, all beautiful in that kind of diversity – and he’s about to step closer to have a better look when suddenly he hears something squeak from down the hall. He looks up just in time to see someone slip through the fire exit.

Huh.

Out of nothing other than sheer curiosity, he decides to go investigate.

He patters down the hall to the door, which is wedged open by a ballet flat. He pushes at it and it opens to a fire escape, staring out across the expanse of a muggy New York afternoon, the clouds swollen and angry-looking, and another stray ballet flat, and then—

A girl, curled up against the edge of it like a surly kitten, bare feet swinging in the breeze, cigarette between her fingers.

She’s tall and willowy, with curly blonde hair and a mouthful of smoke. Everything about her feels poised and delicate, but almost too much so, like if you poke her she’ll crumple to pieces. Her legs are long but fragile, and her face is pretty but gaunt.

She’s beautiful, but in the way that makes you ache, because a happy person doesn’t look like that.

The girl blows a cloud of smoke out into the sky. “Are you just gonna stand there staring at me?” she asks, not looking at him. Percy starts, a little guiltily. He hadn’t known she realised he was there. “Because it’s making me feel weird.”

“Sorry,” Percy says. And then: “Are you Annabeth?”

She takes another deep drag. “Who’s asking?”

“A potential partner? We’re doing a shoot together in a bit, I think. As a test run.”

She turns around to look at him, and Percy’s breath catches because her eyes are the same colour as the sky and the smoke she’s exhaling into it. “So _you’re_ the new hire,” she says. Her eyes scan him up and down. “Huh.”

“Is that a good ‘huh’?”

“It’s an indifferent one. Did you get scouted?”

“Yeah. By—Piper? Piper McLean?”

“Oh.” Annabeth blows smoke into the air. “She has good taste.”

“Oh. Thank you?”

She just hums, and turns back towards the view.

Percy dithers a little at the door, watching her. Her whole body caves inwards, like a crescent moon. She’s pale and drawn and with every drag she takes she seems to get paler. He simultaneously wants to sit next to her and run far, far away. “What are you doing out here?” he says finally.

“Can’t smoke inside.”

“I think they want you inside.”

“Need to finish it first.” She flicks ash off the butt of her cigarette off the fire escape. Percy watches as it drifts towards the ground.

“You know, they put cement in those things,” he says.

“I had no idea.”

“Was that a joke? I feel like that was a joke.”

“No, Peaches, I was completely serious. Truly, before that life-altering revelation you just gave me I was completely unaware of what goes into a cigarette, which is why I was so mindlessly putting it into my body. Thank you so much for your information, you have changed my life forevermore.”

He decides to bite the bullet and swings down next to her, his legs dangling through the bars of the fire escape. Now that they’re close, he can almost feel her heat. She smells of cigarette smoke and sour candy. “That was definitely a joke,” he says. “I didn’t know you could make those. From all the rumours I thought you were just a soulless automaton intent on destroying mankind.”

She cuts a look at him, unimpressed. “Rumours.”

“You’re a bit of a mythical creature. I’m pretty sure there’s even lore about you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Hilarious,” she mutters, half to herself, and takes another long drag, propping her elbows on the bars of the fire escape.

“So, why do you smoke?”

“What?”

“If you know it’s got all the stuff inside, why do you smoke?”

“Because I think it looks cool,” she snarks. “Why do you think?”

He blinks owlishly at her. “You say that like the answer’s obvious but I still don’t actually know.”

“Whatever.” She exhales, and the smoke glitters like stardust. “What’s your name?”

“Percy.”

“That’s a dumb name.”

“You can take that up with my mom.”

“What’s it even short for? Percival?”

“Perseus.”

Annabeth’s hand stills. “Like the Greek myth?”

Percy grins. “Yeah, exactly like the Greek myth! Kudos to you for knowing that. You’re, like, the third person I’ve ever met who made that connection. He was one of the only heroes not to die tragically, so my mom thought some of his luck would pass onto me.”

“And how’s that worked out for you?”

“You know, kind of well. I got a swim scholarship, so that’s pretty awesome.”

“Hm.”

They both watch the cityscape for a few moments longer. He feels Annabeth’s body shift as she takes another drag.

“They’re looking for you,” he says. “Inside.”

“I know.”

“It’s for our chemistry test. They want to see if they should hire me.”

She turns to face him. Her grey eyes are like steel. “And?”

“And what?”

“Do you think they should?”

“I mean?” What kind of question is that? “I have student loans, so, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to face the city, but he thinks that might be the hint of a smile. However, before he can read too much into it, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he has to uncomfortably lift his hips to get it out.

It’s Thalia. “Where are you?” she says. “You’ve gone missing.”

Percy glances at Annabeth. She coolly holds his gaze.

“Uh, just—exploring,” he says.

“Well, stop, you’re needed here,” Thalia says. “Also, B-T-dubs, your makeup girl is frigging terrifying, I tried to talk to her to ask if she knew where you were and she actually crossed herself, like I was a demon. I bet she isn’t even Christian.”

That sounds like Drew. “Yeah, she’s a winner,” Percy says. “Where do I need to be?”

“Studio... Is it 3? Yeah. Studio 3. There are signs everywhere.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

“See you.”

He ends the call and looks at Annabeth. “You... gonna come?”

“In a bit,” she mocks, gently.

Arguing would be fruitless, it seems. So Percy just nods, climbs to his feet, and walks away.

The set is quite simple.

It’s just a plain white soundstage, like the one they use for school photos, with two wooden stools in the middle of it. Just looking at it has Percy’s stomach in all sorts of knots. There are no pretty pieces of scenery to hide behind. This is entirely how he and Annabeth interact, and how well it shows on camera.

He just prays it’s enough.

“Okay, guys,” Piper says, behind the camera. Aphrodite stands next to her like a silent peacock, Annabeth a few feet away like a ghost. “Just have a conversation. We’re not looking for any crazy poses right now, we just want to see how you guys work together. Sound good?”

Annabeth merely nods. Percy shoots a thumbs-up.

“Awesome,” Piper says. “Fred, turn the lights a bit dimmer, they’re coming out as white on my monitor.”

As Piper fusses over the last of the details, Percy swivels around on his stool so he and Annabeth are facing each other. Their knees touch. She’s sitting very straight, her legs crossed, one foot tucked behind the stretcher. She looks like she’s at a job interview. He probably looks like he’s on his couch. He straightens just a bit. “So,” he says. “Annabeth Chase. Nice to see you’ve crawled out of your bat cave of doom and gloom.”

She raises an eyebrow. “My bat cave.”

“Yeah, like Batman,” Percy says. “Because you’re so dark and elusive.”

“Hm.”

He crosses his ankles. “So, we need to get to know each other, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Tell me your deepest fear.”

She arches her eyebrow. She has quite impeccable eyebrows. Distantly, he wonders if she gets them microbladed. “That’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?”

“Apparently sharing your deepest, darkest secrets is a really good team-building experience. I read a whole article on it.”

“Unlocking my deepest fears is at least a level five friendship.”

“Where am I right now?”

“Minus two.”

“Okay, so I’m getting there. I’ll tell you mine. My biggest fear is losing all the people I love.”

Annabeth’s face is inscrutable. “Like... them dying?”

“Not necessarily. Just—losing them. In any capacity. You ever have that dream where you’re a serial killer?”

“No?”

“Awesome, so it’s just me that’s screwed up. Well. One time, I had this dream where I was this, like, insatiable killer. I think that was during finals, though, so I can be excused. But it was the scariest thing. Objectively, I’ve had worse nightmares. When I was younger I always used to have nightmares about the house burning down. It got bad, man. There was a period when I was nine where I didn’t sleep for about two days straight because I was so scared to go to sleep. But this dream—it was so weird, because I was this terrible killer, but I was—fine with it. Like, it was just who I was. I wasn’t bothered by it. It was like I was working at a grocery store. It was so—ordinary, to me. And I remember, in the dream, going to visit my mom, and we were at the table, and I was telling her, about what I was doing, and—I’ve never seen my mom look like that, Beth. Not in real life. She just looked so afraid. I mean, yeah, death sucks, I don’t want to lose her to that, either, and before she dies I _am_ finding the elixir to life so she can stay young and awesome forever, but it was just—I don’t want to lose anyone I love because they’re afraid of me. You know?”

Annabeth looks at him for a very long time, and he holds her gaze. He’s not shy with feeling things, and he’s not embarrassed about it. He likes being open with people, and with someone like Annabeth Chase, he thinks it might be for the best, so he can at least introduce her to human emotions.

Finally, she says, “Damn.”

“I know, right,” he says good-naturedly. “Have I moved up a friendship level yet?”

“You’ve moved down one.”

“ _What_?”

“What kind of person dreams about being a serial killer?”

“I can’t control my dreams. Take that up with my brain.” He gently nudges her foot with his own. “What’s your favourite food?”

If she’s surprised by the sudden change in topic, she doesn’t show it. She tilts her head, considering. Her blonde hair falls off her shoulders and he tries not to stare. “I like sour gummy worms.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you like sour gummy worms. We need to narrow this down. Favourite hangover cure.”

“I don’t get hungover. I drink responsibly.”

“See, I don’t believe that for a second. I think you’re a sloppy drunk, Annabeth Chase.”

“Okay, what’s yours, then?”

“I call it the Single Pan Special. Fried eggs, bacon, baked beans and pancakes. I do it all in one pan at the same time.”

Annabeth looks mildly impressed. “The same time? You fry a pancake and bacon in the same pan at the same time?”

“It gets real messy but it does just the trick. Besides, you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tried a pancake fried in bacon and egg fat.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Probably, and I think my arteries hate me for it, but my soul is happy. What’s yours?”

“I can’t divulge secrets.”

“I just divulged mine. I divulged _two_.”

She gives him a look. “Fine. I make a juice.”

“What?”

“My hangover cure. I make a juice. Tomatoes, watermelon and honey.”

He gapes at her. “ _Annabeth_. That’s disgusting.”

“Gets the job done.”

“I am so proud of you.” He kicks her foot again, and he thinks she might even be smiling. “Okay. Now favourite dessert.”

He doesn’t know how long they’re sat there for, chatting. It’s not about anything deep. They discuss food and trashy television favourites and what they’d do if they were President, and for a while Percy actually forgets there are cameras around. He’s completely swivelled himself around so he’s facing her, his elbows on his knees, chin in hands, and even Annabeth has relaxed a bit, her shoulders no longer a firm line. Somewhere along the line Percy asks her about her first kiss, and she tells him a story about a boy who kissed her behind the bike shed when she was fifteen, and he teases her and playfully links their ankles together, and once or twice she even musters what looks like the beginning of a smile.

In fact, it’s going so well that when Piper calls, “Cut!” Percy is so surprised he almost falls backwards off his stool. He had completely forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Thank you, Percy!” Aphrodite calls from behind the camera. Percy turns to look at her. She’s partially hidden by the shadows, and she’s got a sparkling expression on her face that he doesn’t trust one bit. “I think it’s safe to say that went quite marvellously. Don’t you think, Piper?”

“Yes,” Piper says, and then she and Annabeth exchange a look Percy is kind of afraid to interpret.

“We’ll be in touch,” Aphrodite says. “Expect an email within the next three to five working days.”

Slightly disoriented, Percy clambers off the stool. “Uh,” he says. “Okay.” He glances back at Annabeth, who’s still sat down, picking a piece of lint off her jeans. When she meets his gaze, she coolly raises a brow, and he turns back around quickly, feeling weirdly bashful. “Uh, Thalia?”

“Here,” Thalia says, coming out from behind the camera. “Did you know they have erotica boys?”

Percy blinks. “I—did not.”

She keeps talking as they walk towards the doors. “Like, what does that even mean? Are their shoots erotic? Do they pose for erotica novels? I’ve never been so confused in my life.” They reach the elevator. “Honestly, Percy. I’m not sure I’m ready for the world of modelling.”

“You’re not even doing anything,” Percy says. “You’re just my self-appointed manager.”

The elevator doors slide open, and they step inside. “Yeah, and I think I should get a significant cut of the profit because of that. I’m thinking sixty-forty.”

“Uh, no. Ten-ninety.”

“Seventy-thirty,” she says, and before Percy can protest she’s off again. “But, like. Erotica boys. What does that entail? Is that a job description? Or the actual job title? When they signed up for the job was that a box they purposefully checked? Like, ‘oh, what do you do’, ‘oh, I’m an erotica boy for a magazine called Eros’? How well do you think that goes down at family reunions? D’ya think Zeus would give me back my inheritance if I showed up at his house telling him that?”

“I think he’d freeze your accounts further,” Percy says. (There was an incident a while back where Thalia nearly spent all her inheritance buying an island when she was drunk. Percy may have instigated the whole thing. Whatever.)

“I’m thinking the shock factor would loosen him up. Would maybe dislodge the stick he’s shoved up his ass, anyhow.”

The elevator dings, and they step out. The doors of the reception are all glass, so he can see right out into the streets, which right now is nothing more than an onslaught of heavy rain like a tidal wave. Next to him, Thalia lets out a frustrated grumble, and starts rustling around in her bag for an umbrella. From inside it, something vibrates, and she rolls her eyes and produces his phone from within it, where he’d given it to her before the shoot.

“You got a message,” she says. “Since when do you have friends other than me?”

Percy stares blankly at his phone screen. “Uh, it’s an email,” he says. He swipes it, and his mail app opens. “From—Aphrodite?”

To: Percy Jackson

From: Aphrodite Olympia, CEO of Eros

_Dear Percy,_

_I was very much joking around when I said three to five work days. That would be ridiculous and an incredible waste of time and talent, considering the goldmine I’ve just been handed. I just said it for dramatic emphasis. Quite simply, you are a star, and I would feel very flattered if you would sign to our agency. I’ve attached the necessary forms down below for you and your manager to fill out._

_You truly are BRILLIANT!_

_Stay sparkling,_

_Aphrodite_

“Uh,” Percy says, blinking. “I—think I have a job now.”

“Good,” Thalia says, grimly. “I was afraid I was going to have to get one if you didn’t land this. I think Dad’s serious about freezing my accounts. I need someone around to buy me things.”

Percy can only stare at his phone.

Looks like he hasn’t quite seen the last of Annabeth Chase just yet.

His first shoot is scheduled for next week Saturday at four in the afternoon, but Piper requests he come in at eleven so he can watch another shoot to “calm his nerves.”

“A bunch of a new time models get a bit nervous over their first official shoot,” she explains over the phone. “I thought it would ease your conscience a bit if you saw another shoot in action to see what it’s like.”

“Thank you,” Percy says gratefully. “Can I bring Thalia?”

“She’s your manager, right?”

“Well. Self-appointed. And unpaid. But yes.”

“As soon as you start breaking out the paychecks I’m getting a whacking chunk of them!” Thalia shouts through the wall.

“Ignore her,” Percy says into the receiver. “We’ll be there.”

Saturday morning dawns bright and early, and finds Percy sat in his little kitchenette with a bowl of cereal whilst Thalia paces back and forth in front of him.

“We need to think about this logistically, Percy,” she says as he shovels cornflakes into his mouth. “For once we need to tap into bloodlines and become our fathers.”

“Creepy old millionaire businessmen with occasionally sociopathetic tendencies?”

“Well—no, not really, but if you could access that it would be quite helpful.”

He puts his bowl down. “I don’t know why you’re fussing. Haven’t you already sent Aphrodite the forms that we signed saying that we consent to being signed to their agency?”

“This isn’t about that. Anyway, I’ve made sure that we have a nice loophole out of all of that contract nonsense. I practiced your signature, so I printed out two copies of the forms and signed them in your name myself – with my left hand. I got that trick from A Series Of Unfortunate Events. You signing all the contracts in your left hand means that they’re not legally binding.”

Percy stares at her. “Does that even count when I wasn’t even the one to sign them?”

“Relax. You already consented. I’m just being cautious. Apparently modelling is a very scammy business. There are a lot of frauds, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into a dangerous situation by signing your soul away for five years or whatever. It means that if something happens and you want to leave before your contract ends, you can. You’re welcome, by the way.” She taps her temple. “This is where having a power-hungry business mogul for a dad comes in handy. I know all the tips of the trade.”

He rolls his eyes. “So what’s the big deal then?”

“This isn’t so much about the legal stuff. This is about your emotional wellbeing.”

Oh, God. He can already feel the onslaughts of a headache. “My what?”

“Your emotional wellbeing, Percy. It’s very important we keep you happy and healthy. I read all about it on a blog.”

“And why do you care?”

“Because you’re my cousin, and I’m your only friend.”

He briefly closes his eyes. “So where do our dads come into this?”

“Because we need to be as ruthless as they are.” She hauls herself up on the counter, long legs swinging. “Or, rather, you do. I don’t need to do anything except find out who those damn erotica boys are. That’s not even the real job description, by the way. I went on the Eros website and searched for it and I couldn’t find a _thing_ —”

“Thalia.”

“Sorry, off-topic. Listen, I heard the rumours. I know you’re working with Satan herself.”

Percy can’t help himself. “Annabeth’s not that bad.”

“That’s what she wants you to believe. I’ve talked to a lot of people. Apparently she’s evil.”

“Evil is pushing it a bit, I think.”

“Maybe so. But either way, you just need to be careful! Piper and I were having a chat while you guys were talking. She’s actually pretty cool, I like her. Anyway, keep in mind that Piper and Annabeth are, like, best friends. You know what Piper told me? To tell you to stay cautious. Maybe she’s not being intentionally awful, and maybe she actually likes you. But it’s a fickle business, and Annabeth is a fickle being, and soon you’re going to be nothing more than last week’s news to her. Just—remember that, okay? I don’t want you to end up heartbroken.”

Percy has a lump in his throat, and when he looks into Thalia’s eyes, her expression is open with sincerity. She’s being genuine. Why wouldn’t she be? She has no reason to lie. Thalia’s never been like that. She’s blunt and honest and doesn’t waste time on meddling with people’s feelings. She wouldn’t be saying this if she didn’t genuinely care for his wellbeing.

And—it’s not like this is news to him. Drew already warned him. And he could pass that off as some petty feud between the two of them, because unlike Thalia, Drew does seem like the kind of person who would lie about things to make another person look like crap. But—Aphrodite said it, Thalia’s saying it, even Piper, Annabeth’s best friend, said it. This isn’t a wild theory. It just—

It makes _sense_ , and that’s kind of the kicker. Because Annabeth’s been nice to him. But she’s also been stiff and impersonal, and even though they talked for half an hour, he got nothing except her best hangover cure and her thoughts on the Kardashians. Fire escape Annabeth is the Annabeth they’re talking about, even if, for a sliver of time, there was a second where there must have actually been a real smile on her face.

But here’s Thalia, with an open, sincere expression, telling him to be careful, his best friend since kindergarten, his cousin so close she could almost be a sister. And she’s always had his best interest at heart.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll be careful.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know.”

Her eyes search his for a few moments more before she pulls back and pats his knee. “Good lad,” she says, and the atmosphere eases. “Now, let’s talk headshots. Give me your best smoulder.”

They arrive at the studio around twenty minutes early, and Piper meets them at the door. She sticks out like a sore thumb in her usual attire of hideous clothes around the glitz and glamour of the reception, which is all polished marble and sleek glass, and even the receptionist, in a questionable latex number, gives her an evil eye as she dances back through with them in tow, but Piper moves with so much confidence and purpose that it’s kind of hard to imagine her not being here.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” she says when she greets them at the door, giving each of them a long hug. “Will and Nico have just arrived, you’re right on time.”

“Are they the models?” Thalia asks.

“Yep! Fan favourites, the two of them. It’s sort of sweet, they met on their first shoot, and they’ve been dating ever since. They work very well together.” She gives Percy a look. “We’re kind of hoping you and Annabeth will be able to replicate that.”

Percy laughs nervously. “Yeah. Well. We’ll see.”

“You’ve come the furthest, if that makes you feel any better,” Piper says over her shoulder as she leads them through the lobby to the elevator. “None of the others have even made it through the first stage.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, man. You guys look like you could have great chemistry.”

Percy smiles to himself.

“So,” Thalia says. “Are we just watching?”

“Yep!” The elevator doors slide open, and they step inside. (It’s playing Justin Bieber, because of course Aphrodite doesn’t do boring elevator music.) Piper presses the button for the third-floor, and the doors close. “I know a bunch of our new hires can get nervous about working in a new environment – especially if it’s their first rodeo complete, like you, Percy. I thought you might just feel a bit better if saw how the shoot was going to go and what we’d expect. Does that sound good?”

Percy nods gratefully. As much help as Thalia has been, this is going to completely ease his conscience. “That’s—kind of reassuring.”

Piper claps him on the shoulder. “We’ve got your back, bro,” she says, and he kind of believes her. He thinks maybe it’s the hideous clothes. It’s quite nice to be around someone who doesn’t have Gucci sliders or any semblance of a fashion sense at all, really. Today she’s wearing a blue T-shirt so large it reaches her knees, but it’s been ripped up he thinks her bra may be made of more material. “It’s going to be fine. Will and Nico’s partner stuff is kind of along the same vein of what we’re expecting from you and Annabeth, so just watch and you should be fine.”

Percy nods. “That sounds good.”

In hindsight, he realises that ‘good’ may have been a little bit of an overshoot.

It’s not that it’s _not_ good, per say. Everyone is very friendly and welcoming and between the outrageous amounts of hairspray being spritzed into the air and everyone shouting Aphrodite floats through the chaos like a magenta, chiffon angel with a tin of Quality Street that Percy ducks into several times. He feels a little out of his limit, because aside from Thalia, who’s been aggressively ignoring everyone and making tiny chatterboxes out of her chocolate wrappers, his only friend here is Piper, and she’s in the forefront of everything, setting up lighting and snapping at the interns like a true professional. Percy just kind of sinks into himself and clings to Thalia’s belt loops.

No, the _real_ problem is when the models come in.

They themselves are perfectly lovely. Will is tall and golden and willowy, like a bronzed statue, with soft blond hair and long, quick fingers, and Nico is smaller but broader, darker and broodier, with olive skin and black hair and a smirk that even Percy feels himself melting at. They’re both in robes and Nico is sipping at a Coke can though a straw.

“Oh, so _you’re_ the new model,” Will says, when Percy introduces himself. He gives him an appraising look. “Piper did well.”

“Stop hitting on him,” Nico chides.

“I’m not hitting on him, I’m making conversation.”

Thalia is wearing a look that is simultaneously amused and unimpressed. “How long have you been working here?”

“About two years,” Will says. “Nico joined about eight months ago.”

“And is this full-time for you?”

Will laughs. “God, no! I’m in the middle of med school. I want to become a surgeon.”

“I’m in law school currently,” Nico says.

Thalia looks kind of impressed. “So you’re, both, like, _smart_.”

Percy wants to throw something out the window. Preferably Thalia. Maybe himself. “Stop being rude,” he mumbles.

Thankfully, Will just laughs. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I kind of get that a lot.”

“I don’t,” Nico says. “I look smart.”

“You’re just unapproachable.”

“Tell that to my one million Twitter followers.”

Will rolls his eyes. To Thalia and Percy, he says, “He hit a million last week and he hasn’t shut up since.”

“Will! Nico!” Piper calls. “We’re ready, come over!”

Will winks at them. “That’s our cue,” he says. “You two should stay around, we can hang out later.”

Percy smiles. “That sounds nice.”

And then Will and Nico both drop the robes.

Thalia’s eyes go as huge as plates. Percy thinks his might be the same. 

Those are. Penises.

They are—

They’re naked.

Okay. Awesome.

“Oh my God,” Thalia whispers. “ _They’re_ the erotica boys.”

They both watch as Will and Nico strut, completely butt-naked, towards the set. They’re both very unbothered about their nudity – in fact, considering everyone around them in fully dressed, they’re walking more confidently than anyone else in the room. Piper doesn’t even bat an eyelid when she meets them next to the camera. Instead, she just holds out a few laminated sheets and points at them, and they both nod seriously like they’re in the middle of a meeting and aren’t completely starkers.

“Damn,” Thalia says. “Even my girl-loving vagina’s feeling a little something-something.”

Percy can’t say he disagrees.

At that moment, Aphrodite materialises next to them in a flourish of perfume and rose petals. “Hello, lovelies!” she greets. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Percy says. He gestures in Will and Nico’s direction. “Are they—”

“Oh, you met Will and Nico! Yes, my erotica boys. Aren’t they darling?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Thalia is watching them almost rather studiously. “Is it like—full frontal, is that a thing—”

Aphrodite laughs. “Oh, darling! Of course not, that’s so tacky. I’m all about tasteful nudity. We’d never get anything straight on. However, there’s nothing wrong with a little side, you know?”

“Side,” Thalia repeats. “Like, side—”

“Yes, of course. Are they making you uncomfortable? We can go out and get some sushi if—”

“That’s literally the opposite of what’s happening.”

“I think she’s having a sexuality crisis,” Percy says to Aphrodite.

“Objectively, I would climb both of them like a tree,” Thalia says. “Emotionally, I’m very confused.”

“Well, they are models,” Aphrodite says, quite cheerfully. “Mission accomplished, then!”

Thalia squints at them. Percy decides to leave her to her own devices.

He glances around the room whilst Aphrodite swishes off to compliment her staff and help Piper direct the shoot, taking everything in. He’s just admiring a pack of Red Vines one of the crew has crammed into his pocket when he catches a flash of white in out of the corner of his eye.

It's Annabeth, lurking in the shadows of the room like a ghost.

He looks at Thalia, but she’s still studiously staring at Will and Nico like they’re a very complicated puzzle, so he decides to just head on over. It’s a lot easier said than done, because the ratio of floor to things on the floor that one would typically trip over is about one to three hundred, but he manages to get over to her without destroying anything particularly important.

When she spots him, her lips pull into a tired smirk. “Well, if it isn’t Perseus the optimist.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says. “I thought our shoot was for this afternoon. Are you doing something else as well?”

“No. I’m Piper’s moral support.”

He glances around. “I’m not sure how much moral support you can be giving from back here.”

She ignores him. “What are you even still doing here? Our shoot isn’t for hours.”

“Piper wanted to ease me into the world of modelling.” He glances back towards the set, where Nico is still contentedly sipping at his Coke, whilst Will is lying on his back on the bed, propped up by his elbows, whilst Piper kneels next to him with a pen in her mouth and a furrowed brow, jotting notes down onto a clipboard. They’re both still very, very naked. “I, uh. Didn’t realise it was this kind of shoot, though.”

And Percy thinks that might be a hint of a real smile in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Embarrassed?”

“A little,” he admits. “Do they...”

“They’re not shooting a porno. They just kind of lounge on top of each other.”

“Naked.”

Her eyes are amused. “Yes, Peaches. Naked.”

He tilts his head. “You keep calling me that. Peaches.”

“You’re new. Innocent. It’s kind of nice having that sort of thing around.” She rootles around in her back pocket and pulls out a half-empty box of cigarettes. “Not it’ll last, though.”

“Not inside, Beth!” Piper shouts from across the room.

Percy frowns. “What do you mean?”

“This industry breaks you, dude. Everyone here is depressed beyond belief.”

Percy looks around. Everyone looks relatively fine – but looks can be deceiving, he knows. Across the room, he sees Will pull Nico onto the bed, pulling him into a giggly kiss. “They look happy enough,” he says.

“Yeah,” Annabeth says. “They’re the lucky ones.”

He looks back at her. She has a strange look on her face. “Lucky?”

“This is their first rodeo. They were each other’s first partners. They’re now dating, and Aphrodite doesn’t seem to be letting them go anytime soon. By the time they finish they’ll probably have enough money never to work again. They’re lucky.”

“You did stuff before this?”

“Here and there.”

He looks at her for a long time. She hasn’t lit her cigarette yet, just twirling it between her long, thin fingers, and she has a distant look on her face. She’s been in the industry for a long time, he knows. And while she looks like she’s made a home here at Eros, it must be lonely. What had Drew said? Seven different partners in a month?

There’s just something about her that makes him not want to be only the eighth.

“Hey,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “Let’s go get milkshakes.”

And, unbelievably, she says, “Okay.”

Annabeth offers to pay. “You haven’t got your paycheck yet, Peaches,” she says. “Don’t worry. This won’t break me.”

“It won’t break me either,” Percy says, but he knows if he does pay he’ll be living off ramen for the rest of the week so he doesn’t press it. Lips twitching, Annabeth hands over her card and they wait at the counter whilst the transaction goes through.

“There you go,” the cashier says, handing her card back to her. “Your milkshakes will be out in a few minutes.” She pauses. “Are you famous? I’ve seen your face before.”

“No,” Annabeth says, taking her card back. “I must look like someone.”

Percy says, “Let’s go find a seat.”

They find a small table in the corner with a green tablecloth and a candle in a little glass pot. It’s kind of charming. Percy grins at it all. Annabeth seems very unimpressed.

“It’s tacky,” she says.

“You’re literally a model,” Percy says. “Your life is built around posing around tacky things.”

“At least they have a colour scheme. Nothing matches.”

“Whatever, Miss Vanilla.”

“It’s the only place I am,” Annabeth says, and her voice is so deadpan Percy only catches the innuendo after a few moments.

“Oh! That was a joke.”

“You know, it kind of kills the joke when you have to point it out.”

“The joke was already dead. I didn’t have to do anything.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. Percy grins. He thinks this is progress.

Their milkshakes arrive, and as soon as its placed in front of him Percy digs in. He ordered the Oreo shake (“with extra whipped cream,” he had clarified, and he’d pretended not to notice when both Annabeth and the cashier rolled their eyes) in a large and the size and the sheer appearance of it is enough to make his mouth water. He’s not even sure where to start.

Over her own milkshake – vanilla, small – Annabeth says, a bit meanly, “You all right over there, Peaches?”

“I’m having a spiritual moment.”

She stirs her shake with a straw. “Well, enjoy it. If you’re serious about modelling you’re going to have to cut down on junk food.”

“Yeah, no,” Percy says. “I’m a college student several thousand dollars in debt. I need to be smart about where I put my money. The maths is quite simple. You get much more nutrients from eating a burger than a salad.”

Annabeth looks both horrified and amused. “That’s not right at all.”

“Sure it is! I’m a swimmer, dude. I need energy. A McDonalds burger is ninety-nine cents and around three hundred calories, whereas a salad is three dollars and around fifty calories. What’s going to fill me up faster for less money? Obviously the burger. I think about this.”

“Dear God,” Annabeth says. “What even is the state of your arteries.”

“I swim,” Percy says. “They’re probably fine.” He takes a sip of his milkshake. (It’s incredible.) “I can’t possibly cut down on junk food. I’ll keel over and die from starvation.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and sips her drink. “Whatever. When you start getting paid you bet your ass Aphrodite is going to be all over that.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“You’re having a laugh if you think she hasn’t already planted cameras around your house,” she tells him, and he cracks up.

It’s nice, seeing her like this. He’s not sure how real this is – maybe this is part of her psychological mind game that she’s played with all seven of her ex-partners, getting them to take her out and flirting over milkshakes – but he’s enjoying himself, and he thinks maybe she is, too. In the studio, under the low, amber lights and the dark corners of the room, she’s sultry and mysterious, smeared around the edges with intrigue, but in the day, the garish lights of the bar, she’s almost sickly, but in a way it’s nice, because it’s real. The sexy Annabeth Chase who lurks and poses in the studio is not a happy Annabeth Chase, and here Percy can really see it. Her wrists are too small and her face is too gaunt, but there’s a smile at the edge of her lips, and that’s all that matters.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So,” he says. “Annabeth Chase. Tell me about yourself.”

She rolls her eyes. “I thought we already did this.”

“Yeah, that was the ice breaker.”

“Asking my deepest fear was an ice breaker?”

“Yes, and you didn’t even tell me, so it doesn’t count. I’ve barely grazed the tip of the iceberg that is you. We learnt all the superficial things last time. Now we need to get nitty and gritty.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Which involves?”

“Blood oaths and the promise of our first borns, but to ease you in I thought we’d just tell each other our deepest darkest secrets.”

She studies him. “Do you have many friends?”

“Not really.”

“Mm.”

“But I’ve never been forced into a friendship, either, so that’s why this is different.”

“Neither of us have been forced into a friendship. You’re the one who wants to make this difficult.”

“We’re partners!”

“I like not knowing anything about my partners. It makes roleplaying easier.”

He gives her a look. “I don’t believe that at all.”

“It’s easier to pretend when you can just make things up.”

“But why make things up when knowing is just as fun? The only instance where that is okay is if you’re, like, a serial killer. And are you a serial killer, Annabeth Chase?”

“No.”

“Then we’ve got nothing to fear. I’ll go first. My favourite colour is blue.”

Annabeth just sips her milkshake.

“My favourite food is pancakes,” he continues, when it’s clear she’s not planning on contributing anything to the conversation. “My mom dyes them blue, and they’re amazing. I think she did it to prove a point, but now it’s become tradition. When I was thirteen I broke my arm because me and my buddy Grover tried to go-kart down a hill, but he’s got a leg impairment and I was stupid and put him in charge of the brakes. My favourite ice cream flavour is rocky road and my favourite pizza topping is pineapple and ham. My mom is the best person in the entire world. I’m currently in NYU on a swimming scholarship, but if that falls through I think I’d like to be a teacher.”

Annabeth watches him for a very long time in silence. Her eyes are almost blue under the fluorescent lights. “Pineapple on pizza is disgusting,” she says.

“Oh, you’re one of the non-believers,” Percy says, delighted. “Let’s debate this! Apparently this is one of the best ways to bring two people together. A hearty discussion.”

“I think all it’s doing is pulling us father apart,” Annabeth says, but she takes a sip of her vanilla milkshake and tucks her chair in a little closer, and Percy wants to scoop her into a hug because he knew that a debate would be the thing to get her hooked. “Give me all your reasons.”

“Gladly,” Percy says. “Firstly, I know what you’re going to say. Pineapple is a fruit. Fruit does not belong on pizza. You want to know what’s also a fruit? Tomatoes.”

“And peaches, and apples, and _blackberries_. You wouldn’t put blackberries on pizza.”

Percy ignores her. “Now, you could argue against that. But Percy, you may say. Tomato is not a citrus fruit.”

“Neither is a pineapple.”

“What?”

“Pineapple isn’t citrus.”

“But—it’s spicy!”

Annabeth’s face does something very peculiar at that word, but she must not want to dwell on it because she shakes her head. “Yeah, but that’s because of ascorbic acid, not citric acid. They’re very different.”

“Aha!” Percy points. “So you’re a nerd!”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “You’ve cracked it. My entire past, all laid out in front of you. I’m now an open book. You’ve just solved the mystery that is me.”

“I’m serious, Annabeth. This tells me so much about you. Only a nerd would know that a pineapple isn’t a citrus fruit. Have you read all the Harry Potters? I bet you’re, like, a giant book nerd.”

“Everyone’s read the Harry Potters, Peaches.”

“Peaches! That’s a nerdy nickname!”

Annabeth looks skyward, like, _Lord, help me_.

“What was your grade point average? What did you do in your free time? Did you graduate valedictorian? Do you have a degree? What’s it in? I bet it’s in something like neurological science.”

“I dropped out of high school,” she says, and he thinks it’s to shut him up but it only makes him more excited.

“Oh my God, you’re also a _badass_! Do you have a tragic story? Were you about to invent the app of all apps with your awesome nerd brain, and then some other nerds were like ‘actually we’re going to steal this from you’ and then sold it and you were so humiliated you dropped out and changed your name?”

“Yes, Percy,” Annabeth deadpans. “That’s exactly what happened.”

“Wow,” he says. “Annabeth, you’re kind of awesome.”

She rolls her eyes, but the tips of her ears go pink. Pleased, he sips some of his milkshake.

“Okay,” he says, once he’s recovered from his small divine moment. “Now your turn.”

“My turn for what? You’ve already sussed me out, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but that’s the deep stuff. I’ve already managed to completely work out the enigma that is Annabeth Chase, which was my devious plan all along, by the way, but I want to know the small things too!”

“I already told you all that last time.”

“You explained to me the history of the Grecian alphabet. Nothing about your favourite colour was even mentioned. Like, I want to know _all_! For example, if your taste buds are so screwed up that you don’t like pineapple on pizza what must you like on pizza? Lemon sherbets?”

“The blood of my ex-partners, actually,” she says, and Percy snorts. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“We’re partners.”

“So?”

“And we’re meant to be in _love_. You can’t roleplay that.”

“I’ve gotten good at it.”

“Yeah, but _I_ haven’t. I need something to work with.”

“Peaches, this is showbiz. You’re going to have to used to it.”

“No I don’t,” Percy says. “You said it yourself! Will and Nico are the lucky ones. They met at Eros and they fell in love and they’re happy. Why can’t you have that? Why can’t you allow yourself to have that?”

Annabeth shakes her head. “We’re not Will and Nico, Percy.”

“No, we’re not, because we’re Percy and Annabeth.” Annabeth still looks unconvinced, so he takes her hand. She feels so breakable. “Look,” he says. “I don’t care if you don’t like me. Many people don’t. In high school some punk put an egg in my locker over the weekend and I got suspended for like, three days because of the smell, which I’m definitely not still hung up about. But we’re partners now. And your reputation actually proceeds you a bit. I’ve heard the rumours. Annabeth Chase, lord of darkness, or whatever. But give me a chance. Look at us! We’re out for milkshakes in the daylight, and you haven’t melted yet. I do believe there’s a little heart down there, and I think if we worked together we could really smash this. You know what Aphrodite said? If we click, we might be dynamic enough to make the front page. You hear that? Front page. Listen, I’m all about humbleness and modesty, but if I’m going to start modelling I’m going to start it right, by landing my first shoot on the cover. But you just need to trust me a little bit.” He smiles a little. “Also, I think you’d be a pretty solid friend, and college is a lot lonelier than I thought it would be.”

Annabeth smiles back, weakly.

“So?” Percy says. “What do you say?”

For a long time, there’s silence.

And then, Annabeth says, quietly, “My favourite colour is purple.”

Percy smiles. He thinks this is going to work.

They arrive back at the studio a few hours later.

By this time, Will and Nico have put on clothing and are involved in a deep conversation with one of the interns, who looks a little dazzled (Percy doesn’t blame him in the slightest. Even he feels butterflies when one of them smiles), and also Thalia, surprisingly. When Percy walks in and she notices him, he waggles his eyebrows, and she sticks up a middle finger behind her back without breaking conversation once. (It’s kind of impressive, actually.)

Aphrodite meets them in a fluster at the door. “There you are!” she exclaims, like they had disappeared off the face of the earth. “Goodness, it feels like I’ve been looking for you both for centuries. Go to hair and makeup, quickly. We’ve got work to—” She catches sight of something over Percy’s shoulder. “Oh, dear Lord, you cannot be serious. _Simon_! What do you think you are _doing_? That is _mine_ , put it down! It’s not even your colour!”

He and Annabeth watch as she hurries off. Annabeth says, “She’s a bit dramatic.”

“She’s cool,” Percy says.

“Yeah,” Annabeth says. “She is.”

They both get whirled away to various makeup stations. Drew greets him with her usual scowl and a rack of clothes the length of the alphabet. When she catches sight of his shocked face, she says, “Don’t look so thrilled, you won’t look good in half of these things.”

Percy frowns.

Twenty minutes later, he hedges out of hair and makeup, shirtless and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. When he glances to the side, he sees Annabeth still in the makeup chair, gnawing thoughtfully on her thumbnail, someone dusting powder across her nose and someone else curling her hair. She’s wearing a soft, worn grey shirt that looks like it’s meant for a dude several sizes larger than her and a pair of shorts, and her feet are bare. At first, Percy’s kind of confused at what’s going on, until he spots the bed lying in the middle of a ring of lights.

To Thalia, he says, “I thought I wasn’t doing porn.”

“You’re not,” she says, but she sounds a little uncertain.

Aphrodite floats up to them. “Percy!” she exclaims, and air kisses both his cheeks. “You certainly clean up very well. Drew has always worked wonders.”

Percy thinks about the multiple threats of death by tweezer to the spleen she gave him when he tried to speak. “Yeah, she’s great.”

“What’s the bed for?” Thalia asks.

“We want this shoot to be all about the intimacy between lovers,” Aphrodite explains. When she sees Percy’s face go ashen, she laughs. “No, not that sort of intimacy! I already have my boys for that.”

“Right,” Thalia says, in a strange voice. “Will and Nico.”

(She still hasn’t really gotten over that yet.)

“We want to capture the—well, the after, you know? We’re planning on doing some on the morning after, if you know what I mean, maybe you getting up to go to the work, both of you helping the other get dressed, that sort of thing. The possibilities are quite endless, aren’t they? The theme for the month is duck egg blue, which is quite a muted colour, and I thought instead of making this edition raunchy we’d soften it down with some domesticity. Our readers will fall in love with your love!”

Percy’s eyes dart to Annabeth. “How can you be so sure?”

“Darling,” Aphrodite says, “if this works, you two could be more dynamic than my erotica boys.”

Percy spares a glance at Thalia. Her face is furrowed.

“Awesome,” he says.

“It really is,” Aphrodite says. She takes his hand. “Now, will you be okay by yourself? I must attend to some business with the one of the makeup artists – apparently he’s been stealing some of my custom concealer, which honestly disgusts me because that concealer was especially designed to match my skin tone, and hers is nowhere near my colour, it will look simply awful. Piper has everything under control, you can trust her.”

“I do,” Percy says.

Aphrodite’s face softens, and she strokes Percy’s cheek. “You’re a good boy, Percy,” she says. “I think it’s going to be good having you around.”

“Thanks, Aphrodite.”

“It’s my pleasure, darling.” She smiles at him, and then withdraws her hand, looking over the top of his head. “Piper! How’s it looking?”

“Good, Mom!” Piper calls back. “I think we’re ready to start shooting.”

“Oh, brilliant. Percy, you just follow everything she says. You’ll be in good hands.”

“I know.”

She beams, and then twirls off in a flurry of rose petals and perfume, and Percy is left alone with Thalia, who’s still basically rendered useless.

“So,” he says. “Will and Nico, huh. How’s the crisis going?”

“I am a _lesbian_ , Percy,” Thalia says.

“You can still have a crisis. It’s college. Time for experimentation.”

Thalia just narrows her eyes. “They’re just good-looking.”

He raises her hands.

“That’s _it_!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Percy!” Piper calls. “We’re ready!”

“I need to go,” he says.

Thalia seethes. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “Have fun being straight.”

“I will.”

She scowls at him as he walks away, laughing.

The set is very minimally decorated. There’s a queen-sized bed in the middle of a soundstage designed to look like a bedroom, and a small chest of draws on either side with lamps on them. Annabeth is sat cross-legged on the bed with Piper on her knees next to her, several laminated sheets in front of them, pointing at them with thoughtful looks on their faces.

When Piper spots him, she beams. “Percy!” she says. She beckons him over, sliding off the bed with have a dozen of the laminated sheets in her arms. “You look great!”

Self-consciously, he glances down at himself. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come, sit.” Piper gestures to the edge of the bed. He steps closer, but doesn’t sit. Piper doesn’t seem to mind. She spreads out all the laminated sheets across the covers. “So, here’s what I was thinking. Mom wants intimacy between lovers, right? So I’m thinking we get a few shots of you two, like, cuddling in bed. Think of, like, an early Monday morning, and you both have to get up, but you just want a few more moments together. You know? And then Percy, we’re thinking about you getting out of bed, to go to work, trying to put on your suit, and Annabeth is trying to drag you back, because she’s cuddly and wants more time with her bae.” She pats Annabeth’s head with the sheets. “I understand that may be hard for your pessimistic little brain to comprehend but just think of murdering puppies and we should get the suitable amount of happiness.”

Annabeth just rolls her eyes, fingers twitching. She probably wants a cigarette.

Piper looks at them both. “Does that sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Percy says.

“Yeah,” Annabeth says.

Piper brightens. “Great! Okay. Well. Both get into bed, then. We’ll just set up lighting to see what compliments you the best and then we’ll start.”

She dances off somewhere towards the cameras. Percy looks at Annabeth, who’s very unashamedly climbing under the covers. Her shorts rise up and Percy catches a flash of her thigh. He swallows and looks away, before he does something stupid like touch it, or whatever.

“So,” Percy says. “How exactly are we going to do this?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. She’s already settled, stretched out and relaxed like a cat in the sun, the blue sheets tangled around her waist. Not for the first time, Percy admires just how easy it is for her. “You’re overthinking this, Peaches.”

“See, I’m not, though. I think I’m _underthinking_ it, actually.”

She rolls her eyes again, and pats the space on the bed next to her. “Come on.”

“Come—on, or in? Because those are two very different scenarios.”

She looks like she’s suppressing laughter. “Just get in, Jackson.”

Hesitantly, Percy slides down into the bed. It’s admittedly a pretty nice bed, as far as beds go, and he would know, too, having slept on his fair share of crappy beds over the past year. He briefly entertains himself by running his hand over the sheet. (He thinks they’re silk. They really don’t play games around here. Damn.) “This is nice,” he says.

Annabeth snorts. “Lie down.”

Percy lies down. Now he and Annabeth are nose-to-nose. He could count the blue flecks in her eyes if he wanted. Under the thin veil of foundation across her nose he can see a faint spray of freckles. “Hello,” he says, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

“Hey,” Annabeth says, gently teasing. She nudges their noses together. “You doing all right?”

“I’m doing—great.” He tries to sound dignified. (His voice cracks. So, he fails, a little.) “So. What’s Piper looking for?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, what is she expecting? Platonic snuggling? Non-platonic snuggling? Non-platonic non-snuggling?”

“ _What_?”

“I don’t even know, Annabeth. I’ve never done this before.”

“What, modelled? Shockingly, I can tell.”

“No, like—” He tries to find a way to phrase it without coming across as a creep. “Been with a girl.”

Annabeth looks a little alarmed. “Uh—”

“Or a guy, for that matter,” he adds, because inclusivity. “Not that it matters. But—just so you know. So in case I’m exceedingly average at whatever we’re about to do, you now know why.”

She squints at him. “We’re not having sex, Percy.”

“Yes, I’m—very aware of that, don’t worry. And I don’t mean—like that. Although I see how you could have inferred that, it sounded a little suggestive. I mean, I haven’t ever really dated a girl before. Well, I kind of did, I had a girlfriend in high school, but it was barely serious, you know? And I know this shoot is all meant to be about intimacy between lovers, but, like, as someone who’s never had a lover, or been a lover, I might be a bit crap at it. So, just a head’s up.”

She tilts her head, her eyes calculating. “Have you kissed someone before?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I mean. I’m pretty sure, anyway. Rachel from tenth grade—”

“And do you trust me?”

He eyes her up. “Indefinitely, yeah.”

She smirks, a little, but there’s a fondness in her eyes that softens her entire face. “Okay,” she says, and then, like the unpredictable _ass_ she is, she swings her leg over his hips so she’s straddling him, and leans in close. “Just go with it.”

And then she kisses him.

(It makes the cover, and Eros sells out in a day.)

As soon as Percy picks up the phone, Thalia trills, “Come over!”

Percy frowns. “Thalia?”

“Who else would it be? You don’t have any other friends.”

“Aren’t you next door?”

“Yes!” she bellows through the wall. “But talking that way is so much effort,” she says, through the phone. “Besides, Max the RA sounded really the pissy when he got that noise complaint the other week.”

“Yeah, because it was the eighth one in two months.”

“I think people are just whiny asses, quite frankly. Someone in this corridor insists on having very loud marathon sex all throughout the night every weekend and I don’t hear anybody complaining about them.”

Percy rolls his eyes. “Then just come over, like a normal human being. I gave you my key for literally this reason.”

“That requires even more effort than shouting. And it’s cute how you still insist that you gave me your key.”

“It’s a lot better-sounding than _you stole mine and locked me out for three hours until you came back with four copies that you paid for with my money_.”

“Tom-ae-to, tom-ah-to. Listen, come over, I have a delivery for you.”

Percy opens his mouth, but the line goes dead. He pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at the blank screen in astonishment. “Unbelievable,” he says.

“I heard that!” Thalia shouts through the wall. “Come on!”

There are, admittedly, lots of perks to living in the dorm next to Thalia’s. Firstly, it means very quick access to each other’s rooms, so if one of them has come down with insomnia, or a cold, or an assignment that just won’t write itself, it’s very easy to slide in and give a supportive cuddle or two. Also, whenever Sally decides to Skype, they can just cram around one laptop and rat each other out if the opportunity arises. But there are also cons, like they are with many things, and the main one probably is that Thalia forgets that they do not live alone, and there are around fifteen other people who share the same hall and can every word they are shouting to each other.

(They’ve had so many noise complaints it’s almost unreal.)

He troops the five steps it takes to get to her room, and before he can even knock the door gets yanked open. “Come on,” Thalia says, beckoning him inside. “You’ve got to see this, and be quick, I think Jason and Leo from next door heard and I’m afraid if I leave this door open for any longer than necessary Leo will slide his way in. He’s like one of those water wigglies. He just slips in everywhere.”

(Leo and Jason are other students who live in their hall. They’re both very nice, but Leo has some sort of weird crush on Thalia, despite her blatant lesbianism, that makes holding conversation with him simultaneously hilarious and a little uncomfortable.)

Percy slips inside, and she slams the door behind him like he’s being hightailed. On her bed is a small cardboard box that’s already been haphazardly been ripped into, a pair of scissors still stuck in one end like a skewer. Percy frowns at it. “Is that the magazine?”

“Yep.”

“Why do you have it before me?”

“I arranged for all the PR stuff to be sent to me so I could go through it before you did.”

“Of course you did.”

“And luckily for me I did. Look at this!” She pulls the magazine – that’s already been thumbed through, he notices – and slaps it against his chest. “Front cover, dude. And you don’t even look half bad.”

Percy pulls it back to look at it properly. It’s admittedly a very beautiful picture – it’s all soft blues and greys, like a drawn winter morning. In it, he’s lying on the bed with Annabeth straddling him, their fingers entwined and pressed into the mattress next to his head. Their noses are brushing, Annabeth’s hair a golden curtain over her left shoulder, and she’s not smiling, per se, but there’s something almost adoring in her expression, a playful tilt to the edge of her mouth, and Percy’s grinning up at her, caught mid-laugh. He thinks that’s when he may have joked about having herpes right after she’d kissed him. (Yeah, he’s a catch. He knows.) Annabeth had pulled away, her eyes sparkling, and then started pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw, which—

Well. You know, wasn’t much better.

It’s actually a really beautiful picture. He thumbs over their faces. Across the top is emblazoned EROS – MEET THE NEW FACES, with a short paragraph about the people appearing for the first time. He’s one of them. Forgetting about Thalia, he flips to page five, trying to find his interview. That had been one of the coolest and also trippiest things that had ever happened to him, especially when he had Piper dancing around him with her camera.

The picture that they’ve chosen isn’t terrible, considering they’re all candids. He’s smiling at something off-camera, and next to his face is PERCY JACKSON, EROS’S NEWEST HIRE! He smiles faintly at it.

“They love you, Perce,” Thalia says. “I already went online to all the chatrooms. I went under a pseudonym so no one would know it was me.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who you are anyway.”

“Yeah, but just in case. They all adore you. I think it’s because for so long they’ve seen Annabeth as a solo model that seeing her work with someone has them all up in frenzies. I’m pretty sure Eros is even trending online.” She claps him on the shoulder. “You did really well, Perce. I’m proud of you.”

Something in his ribcage glows. He smiles at her. “Thanks, Thals.”

She perches down on the edge of the bed and empties the rest of the box onto the sheet. There’s not much there, only another copy of the edition and some bubblewrap, but there is also a small handwritten note. Percy picks it up.

_You’re FAB, Percy! You made the edition 100000x better. Lots of love, Aphrodite xx_

Percy smiles at it.

“Will say, though,” Thalia says lightly, and he looks up. She’s got the other copy of the magazine over her knee, and she’s tracing his face. “Consider me proven wrong. You guys have good chemistry.”

“I think she wanted to kick me. I made a joke about having an STD.”

“Classy.”

“I know.”

They both look at the picture again.

“Are you gonna tell me to be careful?” he asks quietly.

Thalia sighs, and turns to look at him. “You’re a big boy,” she says. “Of course, not as big as me, and you never will be, but—you can take care of yourself.” She gently flicks his face in the picture, and then looks up at him. “You—you look like you really like her.”

He shrugs with one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think.”

She nods, and pats his thigh. “You know what you’re getting yourself into. And if she breaks your heart you come to me, and I’ll beat her up.”

He snorts. “Good luck.”

“I don’t need it. Look at her.” Thalia flicks to another page. It’s of Annabeth, solo. They must have taken it before he arrived. She’s sitting alone on a balcony somewhere, in a grey cable-knit sweater, with a mug clasped between both her hands. She’s looking off somewhere, gaze distant. Her eyes match the clouds in the sky. “All I’d need to do is blow on her, and she’d shatter.”

But Percy remembers the way she had pressed her smile against his neck when he’d made a dumb pun about her name, the way her foot had grazed his under the table when they went for milkshakes, and thinks of the bite of her scowl on that fire escape.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he says.

Later, he rips the page out of the magazine, and hangs it from his wall. It’s the only one aside from his lonely Captain America poster, but it feels right being there.

From there, everything explodes.

When Thalia had first assigned herself his manager, he had laughed at her. He didn’t think she was really being serious, and maybe she wasn’t. He means – he’s a model. Big whoop. That doesn’t require a manager.

_Well_.

Since the first publication, he’s kind of been counting his blessings for her.

“Honestly, Perce,” Thalia says once she hangs up on the fifth phone call of the afternoon. “When I first signed up for this, I was only in it for the money. I mean, I get seventy percent of your earnings for doing practically nothing. What’s not to love?”

“You do not get seventy percent—”

“And yet,” she continues, “here I am, having to hold actual conversations on the phone with hotshots for you. The things I do for you.”

He watches her. “You know—you don’t have to do it, if you don’t want.”

“Are you kidding?” She turns to him with an almost manic look in her eyes, and Percy is suitably afraid. “This is awesome! I’m not a Grace for nothing. You want to know what the first thing Zeus taught me?”

“Speech?”

“How to _barter_ , my friend.” As if on cue, her phone starts ringing again, and she picks it up. Her smile is almost evil and frankly Percy has never been so grateful she’s helping him with this. “I’m giving all these stodgy fifty-year-old businessmen a run for their damn _money_. When they call me hoping to book you for whatever irrelevant clothing magazine they are not expecting the whirlwind that is _moi_.” With that, she presses answer and lifts her phone to her ear. “Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson’s manager, speaking.” To Percy, she mouths _, I am going to tear him to pieces_.

Percy just nods and quickly backtracks out of there.

Honestly, he had kind of underestimated Eros’s impact on the world of media. He’d known that it made Aphrodite a lot of money, and there’s a reason Chase is the first to autocorrect when you type Annabeth into Google, but he hadn’t realised just how many big publishers scoured it for potential models. No one really looks at him different at college – although that may be down to the fact that a good portion of the magazine is a very attractive and very naked gay couple posing a lot on top of each other, and anyone who recognises Percy is also admitting to basically having a classy erotica photography kink – but Thalia and the Eros agency have had so many calls asking about who he is and if they can book him it’s almost insane.

“Vogue,” Percy repeats, when Aphrodite notifies him of the latest one. “As in—”

“Yes, that Vogue,” she says dismissively. “I said we’d think about it. Need to keep them on their toes, you know. I knew they’d snap you up the second they saw you, so I’ve been preparing. I had a hunch about hiring you, you know. I think I’m a little psychic. Do you think it would be worth it to start taking tarot lessons? I heard there’s a great Skillshare class about it.”

Vogue. _Vogue_. _What the hell is going on_.

However, the big break comes in the middle of another Eros shoot. So far, Piper and Aphrodite have been very selective about what jobs they’re wanting him to do, since technically they own him. Because of that, there have been a lot of meetings between them and Thalia about what jobs he should take, for the sake of his ‘career’, and his shoots at Eros have increased almost tenfold. Not that he’s complaining. More money, less time in student loans, _holla_ , and also, more time with Annabeth.

And— _Annabeth_.

It always comes back to Annabeth.

Like today. From behind the camera, Piper narrows her eyes. “Percy, spread your legs wider. Come on, be the inner manspreading douche we all know you’re not.”

“You’re not helpful,” Percy says, slightly sulkily, but he spreads his legs wider anyway. Next to him, Annabeth hides her smirk behind her martini.

“I have a vision,” Piper says. “And you’re not being it. Wider, please.”

“How wide do you need me to spread my legs? I’m basically doing the splits!”

“Stop whining,” Annabeth says.

“Easy for you to say. You’re just sitting there. Without a care in the world.”

Annabeth takes a sip of her martini, swirling the olives around in it. She looks incredibly beautiful today – they’ve got her kitted out in a dark blue cocktail dress that makes her pale skin even paler, and her curls have been pinned over one shoulder. In the low light, they glint like spun gold. Percy tries not to stare too hard. “That’s not my problem.”

“Smoulder, Percy,” Piper says. “You look like you have indigestion.”

Percy huffs, and Annabeth snorts.

The theme for the shoot they’re doing today is ‘sexy’. Which is. Alarming. And has a very wide range of possibilities. Luckily, Aphrodite seemed to be on-board with a fully-clothed kind of sexy, much to his relief, so Piper has he and Annabeth in various formal outfits that they’re posing in drafty, dimly-lit warehouses in. It’s not the most glamorous shoot, not by a long shot – or at all – but he has Annabeth with him, like a warm, witty hot water bottle against his side. She’s spent the majority of the shoot leaning in to whisper things in his ear and even though Piper’s camera goes absolutely mad whenever it happens, what she doesn’t know is Annabeth’s actually explaining to him the history of feminism and why pistachio gelato is the best ice cream flavour.

They pose for a few more minutes before Piper scrubs a hand through her hair and calls, “Let’s take fifteen.”

“Was it something I did?” Percy asks Annabeth.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t me,” Annabeth says, which, touché.

Piper comes up to them. “We’re just going to take a quick break while we look at all the pictures,” she explains, and Percy deflates with relief like a popped balloon. Annabeth smirks. “And then we’ll relocate and get you both to pose around a bar, or something. Go and take a walk, or something. Be back in around ten minutes.”

Percy glances at Annabeth. “Wanna get milkshakes?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “I think you have a problem.”

But it’s not a no, so they go.

They get a few looks, considering it’s twelve in the afternoon and they’re both dressed to the nines, but it’s New York, so despite it they manage to head to the nearest diner relatively undetected. They’re not at the studio, because apparently empty warehouses have a better vibe, but that doesn’t stop Percy in the slightest. He’s scoped out almost every good milkshake place in New York. When he tells Annabeth this, she looks fondly exasperated.

“You’re so stupid,” she says.

“I’m not hearing you complain.”

She smiles a little. “No.”

She doesn’t smile a lot. She should. It’s beautiful.

He tells her as much, and she rolls her eyes, but the tips of her ears go pink. Percy grins to himself. _Score_.

They order their drinks and sit outside, because it’s a nice day. Annabeth lights a cigarette and slips her feet out of her strappy high heels, resting them on top of Percy’s so they don’t touch the pavement. Her nails are painted the same colour as her dress. Percy is so, so endeared.

“So,” she says. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m exhausted,” Percy says. “There’s a reason I called for emergency milkshakes.”

As if on cue, the waiter arrives with their shakes. Percy takes his off the tray and immediately downs a solid quarter of it, smacking his lips together and letting out an obnoxious “ahh”. Annabeth just rolls her eyes and takes a delicate sip, her lips pursed around her straw. (It’s vanilla again. Predictably.)

“Well, get used to it,” Annabeth says, once the waiter has walked away. “You be doing twelve-hour shoots soon enough.”

“Oh, God.”

She laughs a little at his mortified expression. “Don’t worry, that’s only in extreme cases. Most of the time they’re quite easy. And, we get to sit down for a lot of it, so it’s fine.”

“You weren’t the one being _attacked_. _Smoulder, Percy. Spread your legs, Percy_. I felt like a prostitute.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “You know you looked great.”

Privately, Percy actually thinks he looks a bit like a tool, because he’s just in a white button-up, slacks and suspenders, and he feels slightly like a chimneysweep, but Annabeth seems to be digging it, so he gently the kicks the bottom of her bare foot. “Yeah, I did.”

She grins and takes another sip. Her toes nudge his calf.

They sit in comfortable silence for a bit, just drinking their milkshakes. Percy watches all the people go by, all so wrapped up in themselves and what they’re doing that they don’t even notice the two people sat on the sidewalk looking like Bugsy Malone extras. He kind of likes it like that, though. He doesn’t hang out with Annabeth outside of shoots, aside from their milkshake breaks, and he likes this little bubble of privacy they can afford to have with each other, this untouchable moment between the two of them.

It’s the only part of her he feels like he can have, and he wants to savour every moment.

He notices movement across the table, and when he looks up he sees her stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray on top of the napkin dispenser. He watches her. “You know,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve seen you smoke in a while. Aside from today.”

Her cheeks pink. Slowly, and deliberately not looking at him, she says, “I guess I’m trying to cut back.”

He sits up. She’s picking invisible lint off the thigh of her dress, but her ears are red. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Annabeth!”

She scowls at him. “Don’t make it a big deal.”

“This is a _huge_ deal! What sparked this?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but she’s still alight with a beautiful blush, and Percy _loves_ it. “Dunno,” she says. “I—guess maybe I realised I didn’t want to be hurting myself any more than I had to.”

Percy stares at her for a long time. “It was the cement, wasn’t it,” he says finally. “After I told you you had a revelation.”

The look she gives him is nothing more than completely unimpressed and he cackles, delighted. “Yes, Percy,” she says. “You telling me something I already knew was completely the catalyst for this change.”

“Just saying,” Percy says, and he takes a pointed sip of his milkshake to prove his point. “No one likes being told there’s cement in their body. It’s kind of like how everyone refuses to acknowledge what’s in a hotdog.”

“Right, because hot dogs and cigarettes are exactly the same thing.”

“That was a brilliant metaphor, don’t crap on it. And it’s so true! Hotdogs are my best friend as a broke athlete – need the calories, my dude – but I refuse to ever stop being disillusioned about what’s in them. It’s just meat, I tell myself. Organic meat. From happy animals that are looked after well.”

She rolls her eyes, and takes another sip of her milkshake. “Whatever, Peaches,” she says.

Percy leans forward. “Is that—dare I say it, am I seeing, perhaps, a smile?”

“Shut up. No.”

“Annabeth _Chase_.”

“Wait until I flash my ankles,” she says, and he cackles.

“You’re actually kind of hilarious.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, Peaches.”

“What does that mean?”

“Many would disagree with that.”

“I don’t believe that. How?”

She shrugs. “Lots of people aren’t you.”

He tries to look at her, but she’s staring down at the ashtray. He decides to throw caution to the wind and reaches across the table and takes her hand. “Well,” he says. “Right here, right now, I can confidently say, Annabeth Chase, I think you are one of the most brilliant people I know. And you can quote that.”

“I might have to,” she teases, but there’s something vulnerable in her face. “Everyone’s jumping over themselves to hire you.”

“Not sure why, to be honest.”

“You’re a star, Percy.”

“It doesn’t take much talent to just stand around looking pretty. That’s all genetics, I think.”

She rolls her eyes, and squeezes his hands. “Just—promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“No matter how big or famous you get—don’t forget me?”

“What?” He tries to meet her gaze, but she’s staring down at her milkshake. “Annabeth. As if I could.”

She just shrugs. She’s not aloof Annabeth Chase anymore. This is all real – maybe the realest he’s ever seen her. Her expression is timid, almost— _breakable_. This is different from the smokescreen of the cameras or the garish lights from the neon signs in the milkshake diner all those weeks ago. This is just Annabeth, and it only makes him want to hold her.

Instead, he just runs a thumb over her knuckles. “Annabeth, look at me.” She finally looks up, and he squeezes her hands. “You’re—I could never forget you, Annabeth Chase. Besides, who says I’m getting big or famous? I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. You’re the pro here. Hell, I wouldn’t even have this job if it weren’t for you.”

She manages a smile at that. “That’s right.”

“I can guarantee you,” he says, “that once they put me alone and realise just how awkward I am by myself, they’re either going to fire me straight away or bring in the only thing that makes me work. Which is you. It’s really not an option at this point, Beth. I’m only going to make it if I have you with me.”

Her cheeks go pink. “You say that to all the girls?” she says.

“Just the smart, pretty ones,” he says, and she rolls her eyes again, but she’s gone even pinker, and he grins. “I’m serious, Beth. All or nothing. Besides, you’re pretty unforgettable. The first time we met you were smoking on a fire escape, and I had a thimble in my back pocket, for some reason. Those kinds of first impressions last. How could you think I’d forget you after that?”

“The Internet’s gone wild over you, Percy. You’re destined to do better things.”

“Better than Eros? Never. Besides. I wouldn’t have you. You’re kind of my lucky charm with these things.”

“Whatever.” But she looks pleased.

He’s about to say something when suddenly he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. “Hold on,” he says, and digs it out. “It’s Piper.”

“She probably just wants to know where we are,” Annabeth says.

“Or that we haven’t been kidnapped in the ten minutes we’ve been away.” He presses answer, and holds his phone to his ear. “Hey, Piper, what’s up?”

“Is Annabeth with you?”

Percy glances at her. “Uh... yeah?”

“Put me on loudspeaker.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just do it.”

Percy rolls his eyes, and puts his phone on loudspeaker, resting it on the table between them. “Okay, you’re on.”

“What’s going on?” Annabeth asks.

“That’s what I want to know.”

“You might want to hold onto your hats,” Piper says gravely. “They’re going to fly straight off.”

Annabeth frowns. “Did somebody _die_?”

“Better. Are you ready?”

Percy rolls his eyes. “Piper—”

“You’re booked for _Jupiter_!”

And Percy and Annabeth, quite frankly, lose it.

Just to clarify: Jupiter is, without a shadow of a doubt, the biggest fashion magazine in the entirety of the world. Not even the world. The _universe_. It is run by Dionysus Whyne, who apparently makes a lot of headlines for being drunk and saying dumb things at press conferences, but reputation be damned the man can run a successful empire.

“I’ve slept him before,” Aphrodite says at lunch a few days after, and Piper chokes on her salad. “Not my greatest lay, to be honest. He’s terrible in bed and drinks far too much, and the morning after, which is believed by some to be the most erotic part, was a complete let-down, because instead of making me breakfast like most men do, he gave me a box of grapes. And they were half-expired. I’ve slept with the owner of Amazon,” she adds, pointing her fork at Percy, and Piper makes another noise like she’s dying, “who, by the way, has a lower net worth, and he made me eggs and bacon with caviar in a solid gold frying pan. Dionysus was very disappointing. Thank goodness I didn’t fall pregnant, that would be my only regrettable child.”

“Oh my God, Mom,” Piper rasps, “please stop talking.”

“Nonsense, I need to make sure Percy knows what to expect,” Aphrodite says, and she lays her hand over Percy’s on the table. Percy can only really stare at her, torn between being appalled and impressed. “Now, Percy, only shake his hand if he offers first, because you do not want to willingly touch any of that with a ten-foot barge pole. Lord knows that man sweats like a stuck pig, when I was with him it was like being smothered by a beached whale...”

Regardless.

Dionysus is still one of the biggest names in fashion history, and he had somehow seen Percy and Annabeth’s shoot together. And, even despite he and Aphrodite’s—history, he had still sent an inquiry asking after her models, and whether they would like to feature in his upcoming editorial.

Like—mind, _blown_.

As soon as he and Annabeth get the news from Piper and consequently regain all sense after shrieking a bit, he whips out his phone, Googles the most expensive dessert place within a ten-minute walking distance of the milkshake diner, and orders two forty-dollar waffles for them. Because they. Are going. To be. In. Jupiter. And even if his Jupiter paycheck only ends up being ten dollars and a Walmart coupon he doesn’t even care because he’s so thrilled about the idea of them managing that that he can’t even bring himself to despair at the atrocity that is his weeping bank account.

“This is a big deal, right,” he says, once they’re seated and already a good third through their waffles. (He’s never going to excuse being charged forty dollars for a waffle, but he does have to say, it’s pretty fantastic.) “Like, this doesn’t happen often.”

Annabeth lets out a laugh. “Are you kidding? The only people who really manage to snag a spot in Jupiter are the A-list models, the kind of ones who do Victoria Secret runways and have a hundred million Instagram followers and are friends with the Kardashians. This is a really big deal, Percy.”

He points at her with his fork. “I told you. I _told_ you I wouldn’t get big without you.”

She doesn’t even poke fun at him. “We’re going to be in Jupiter. _Jupiter_.”

“I know,” he says.

“This is—I couldn’t dream of anything else.”

“And we’re doing it together.”

She smiles at him over the top of their ridiculously overpriced waffles, and it’s like everything stops in that moment. It’s the first real smile he’s seen on her, and she wears it so well that he feels rooted to the spot. It’s so charming, and so beautiful, and so is she, even too thin and pale under the neon lights of the first milkshake diner with an intelligent, scrutinising stare, and especially in her blue dress with her hair tousled from the wind and her bare feet on top of his under the table with red-tipped ears, and he thinks it’s then, and an accumulation of all the other times they’ve met since that first time on that fire escape, that he begins to fall in love with her.

“Yeah,” she says, and something catches fire in his chest. “We are.”

Percy’s day at Jupiter is really something quite remarkable.

Firstly, he and Thalia have to get up at six in the morning in order to get to the Jupiter headquarters on time, and it’s an utter pain. Percy’s not a morning person, and Thalia is even less of one; there’s a _reason_ why their earliest classes are at eleven instead of eight. Anyone who can function in an eight am class is probably a sociopath.

(“I think Jason from down the hall has an eight am class,” Thalia says, when Percy tells her of this theory.

“Well, he doesn’t count. He’s Jason. He probably enjoys the class, too.”)

It takes a bit of huffing and puffing and a foot in the face when Percy tries to bodily drag Thalia out of her bed by the ankle, but within half an hour they’re both showered, clothed, and on the train with a doughnut in one hand and a coffee in the other. Percy watches as Thalia drops three caffeine pills into it in mild horror.

“You’re going to have a heart attack,” he tells her.

“It’ll be worth it,” she says grimly, and chugs.

That by itself leaves a bit of a sour note in his mouth, and mainly that’s only because having eleven am classes have spoilt him with sleeping in after years of five am swimming sessions in high school, but after that, it’s easy. The train journey is around an hour long and goes by relatively quickly (Percy spends the entire time on his phone texting Annabeth and somewhere around the twenty-minute mark all the caffeine must have reached Thalia’s bloodstream because she goes briefly catatonic before spending the remaining half an hour vibrating in her seat) and as soon as they get off the train and onto the street any worries about getting lost are thrown out the window because of the huge post-modern building across the street with JUPITER blazoned across it like a brand.

“Well,” Percy says. “Here we are.”

Thalia inhales deeply. “It smells of fame and bad choices.”

He glances at her. “What?” He’s really not going to be surprised if all the excess caffeine has opened up her psychic third eye or allowed her to see in the fourth dimension, or something. She certainly looks like it has. He’s pretty sure one of her eyes is twitching.

“I don’t really know, Perce, I’m kind of delirious,” she says. “Let’s go inside.”

They go inside and check in at the front desk, and the lady manning the computers instructs them to go to meeting room 12, in which Dionysus is supposed to arrive in around ten minutes. They go up to the third floor in one of the many swanky elevators, which, to Percy’s amusement, is filled with dozens of framed photos of Dionysus in various poses. His personal favourite may be the one of him lying on a sofa, nude, pot belly and all, with nothing a fig leaf over his junk, and a glass of wine in one hand.

“That’s attractive,” Thalia says.

“If you look at it objectively it’s kind of beautiful.”

“No it’s not.” She hiccups, and her left hand spasms. “I think I need a Valium.”

The elevator arrives at the floor with a pleasant ding, and the doors slide open to reveal a long corridor. Like the elevator, it’s also covered in framed photographs, but much to Percy’s relief these ones all seem to be the Jupiter models. There is something kind of intimidating about them, and suddenly Percy can understand what Annabeth was talking about when they were discussing the kind of people Jupiter hired. They’re all long limbs and glossy hair and perfectly symmetrical faces and six-pack abs and frankly, it’s a little daunting. Percy’s a swimmer, so he’s in good enough shape, but he knows he’s a little too lanky still, not tall enough yet, and after being in chlorine for most hours of a day his hair does _not_ look like that.

He shakes his head and continues down the hall. He can’t let himself get psyched out now. He hasn’t even gotten in front of the camera yet. He just needs to remain calm and confident.

And then, Dionysus.

Dionysus is—interesting, to say the least.

Percy supposes he can’t really be critical, because it’s not like he’s been particularly warm this morning either, but he thinks maybe he’s just gotten so used to Aphrodite’s constant state of joy that when he first meets Dionysus he’s a little—surprised, to say the least.

Firstly, he’s late, and secondly, when he does show up, thirty minutes after the scheduled time, he smells of alcohol, looks like he’s fighting off a terrible hangover and collapses immediately in a chair. By this time, Annabeth has also shown up, with Piper by her side, and both of them look a little alarmed by him. (Percy would like to think Thalia would as well, but she’s still trembling and high on caffeine so he decides to not take the fact that she doesn’t look insulted by his disrespect personally.)

However, alongside him is an older man in a wheelchair who introduces him as the editor-in-chief of Jupiter, Chiron. Percy likes him immediately. His skin is weathered and his voice is gravelly but he’s got a mischievous spark in his eyes that Percy trusts. With all of Dionysus’s drama, he looks like someone he can lean on.

“Hello,” Chiron says. “I’m very sorry about the delay, we were caught up in another meeting.”

Dionysus burps. “No, we weren’t.”

Chiron ignores him. “I want to extend a thank you to you for coming in so early, it means a lot to us. We have several places we’d like to visit for this shoot, so it is god you have arrived when you have so we can hit them all before the sun starts to set. We’ll be taking the van, so you don’t need to worry about transport fees, and we are bringing with us our on-site makeup artists, so don’t be afraid about what you look like, we’ll patch you up.” He glances at Dionysus. “Is that everything?”

“Probably.” Dionysus stretches and takes his fat, little legs off the table. “All right, then. Let’s set sail.”

Thalia frowns. “Is that it?”

Dionysus looks at her like he didn’t realise she was even in the room. “What?”

“We waited here for half an hour for you to tell us that we’re getting in a van?”

“Pretty much.”

“That’s stupid.”

“That’s showbiz, little girl.”

Her eyes narrow.

Good to know the caffeine hasn’t taken out her thirst for blood.

“That’s awesome,” Piper says, a little too enthusiastically.

Dionysus glances at her. “Who are you again?”

She falters. “Oh, I—” Her eyes frantically shoot to Percy and Thalia. “Annabeth’s—manager?”

“I was under the impression that Annabeth’s manager would be Aphrodite Olympus,” he says.

Piper swallows. “Yeah,” she says lamely. “Uh, she’s... dead.”

“That’s most unfortunate.”

“Yeah, it’s—been hard on all of us.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, then,” Chiron says. “Let’s get ready to go. Do you all have your things?”

They all troop back downstairs and meet the rest of the crew outside the building. Privately, when Chiron had said ‘van’, Percy had been expecting some next-level automobile, like a limousine, or a very fancy Range Rover with robots that served drinks. After all, it’s a million-dollar company, they can afford some luxury. Right?

Well. Apparently not. The van on the curb is faded white with DELPHI’S STRAWBERRY SERVICES on the side. It looks like it has just been pulled from a junkyard.

“This was from back in the heyday when I sold strawberries,” Dionysus says. “My first true venture into entrepreneurship.”

“Oh,” Annabeth says.

Chiron just rolls his eyes fondly. He seems to know exactly what they’re all thinking. “Come in.”

They all clamber into the back of it. There are a lot of people with them – makeup artists and wardrobe managers as well as the photographer and all of his numerous assistants. It’s a bit of a squeeze, especially with Chiron’s wheelchair, but they make it work. The engine rumbles to life, and then they take off.

The entire day, frankly, passes in a huge blur. Percy vaguely remembers stopping at an old service station near the beginning, one of the retro ones, with the neon signs in the windows and faded signs advertising all sorts of bargains to be found in the convenience store, but aside from that and getting literally stripped down by two aggressive stylists behind the store to wrestle him into different clothes all with terrible upturned collars he doesn’t remember much from that. He thinks he and Annabeth may have had to pose around a Slushie machine, and he also may have accidentally pressed down and sluiced flavoured ice everywhere, but that also may _not_ have happened, so.

The next stop is an empty highway. Percy remembers more about this one, mainly because the chance that a car was going to come barrelling down it and run him over was definitely very, very real. He and Annabeth have to do a variety of different poses, including leaning against a stop sign, sitting on the side of the road, and, his least favourite, lying right in the middle of it, perfect bait for anyone to not see them and mow them flat.

“You know,” he says, as one of the makeup artists squats awkwardly above him to dust his face with powder. “I’m not sure if I’m okay with dying because of a shoot.”

“We won’t die,” Annabeth says, next to him, someone arranging her curls on the ground. “Probably, anyway.”

He rolls his head over to look at her. She’s grinning. “Ha, funny.”

“Stop moving,” the makeup artist growls, and he snaps back into position. Drew is really nothing compared to these Jupiter employees. He makes a mental note to buy her a gift basket, or something.

After the highway (in which both he and Annabeth emerge from non-flattened, thank _Jesus_ ), they visit a few other places, but the one Percy likes the most is the field. The grass is scratchy and the little white restroom building in the middle of it that he thought was cute has cockroaches and spiders and the toilet is a hole in the floor that doesn’t flush, but it’s the peak of the day so the sun is bright and everyone seems to be in a good mood. When they all initially clamber out of the truck, Thalia shields her eyes and says, “Wow.”

“This is really beautiful,” Piper says. “We... definitely need to remember this for Eros.”

“Get some cute pics of us frolicking through the flowers,” Percy says, and smiles sweetly at Annabeth when she leers at him.

“Imagine getting wasted in a field like this,” Thalia says. “Speaking of, I’m parched. Is there food?”

There is. Someone’s set up a little metal table near all the camera equipment covered in water jugs and towers of paper cups. They all help themselves to a cup and collapse in the grass, watching the other models pose around in each other in little gingham tops and high-waisted shorts. Percy rolls his eyes when he catches Thalia sneaking a hip flask out of the pocket of her jacket.

“You’re kidding,” he says.

“I never kid,” she says seriously, and tips half of it into her cup. “Cheers.”

“You’ve just had, like, probably eighteen times the recommended amount of caffeine,” he says. “You sure your liver isn’t just going to combust with adding _vodka_?”

“We Graces die like men,” Thalia says, and downs it like a shot. “Oh, that’s got a kick.”

Percy rolls his eyes.

“By the way,” she continues, “what are we doing for your birthday?”

Annabeth looks up. “Your birthday’s soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Thalia says. “August 18th. Twenty! It’s a big one.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Annabeth says.

Percy scratches his head. “Honestly, I kind of forgot it was happening.”

“This is why you have me around.” Thalia empties the rest of the flask into her cup. “I’m thinking a Lord of the Rings marathon with cake and wine? You guys have to come, too.”

“Oh, _in_ ,” Piper says enthusiastically, and she and Thalia bump cups.

But Annabeth looks a little hesitant. “Even me?”

“Uh, hells yeah,” Thalia says. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were kind of insane when I first met you, but you’re super dope.”

“Exactly,” Percy says. “Annabeth, if we’re celebrating my birthday, you’re definitely going to be there. You’re like my best friend. Besides, I still have my conspiracy that you’re secretly a huge nerd, so technically this is just another part of my ruse to get you to admit who you truly are.”

She laughs, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“We’ll do it in Percy’s dorm because it’s bigger,” Thalia says. She taps her chin. “Do we need to invite anyone else?”

“Maybe Jason and Leo,” Percy suggests.

“Leo’s just gonna hit on me the entire time.”

“It’s _my_ birthday.”

“Who are Jason and Leo?” Piper asks.

“Neighbours of sorts,” Percy explains. To Thalia, he says, “Come on, it’ll be cool! We’ll definitely invite them.”

Thalia glowers mutinously. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Awesome,” Percy says. “Sounds like a plan, then.”

“Should we bring anything?” Piper asks.

“Just yourselves,” Percy says, at the same time as Thalia says, “Presents.”

Percy gives Thalia a significant look. “ _No_ presents.”

“I’ll bring wine,” Piper says.

“Good woman,” Thalia tells her.

“I’m getting you a present,” Annabeth says. “Maybe I’ll book you a session with a therapist to talk about your milkshake problem.”

“Literally piss off, Annabeth Chase,” Percy says. “I never hear you complaining.”

Annabeth opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Dionysus calls across the field, “Chase, Jackson!” They both look up, and he gestures towards the little white house. “You’re up! Get to hair and makeup!”

“That’s our cue,” Percy says, clambering to his feet and wiping any grass off the seat of his trousers. “See you guys in a bit.”

“See you,” Piper says, and Thalia just raises her cup.

The idea for the shoot is pretty simple. As far as it looks, Dionysus just wants Percy and Annabeth to drape themselves over each other and look sultry in the bright sun, which shouldn’t be too hard, he thinks. Annabeth is wearing a white shirt and the long blonde curls at the front of her face have been pulled back, and Percy thinks she looks absolutely beautiful.

Their photographer, Chris, orders them around each other in the tall, yellow grass. Privately, Percy is glad that he’s already had so much experience with Annabeth beforehand, because something about the way they did her makeup and lined her eyes in glitter has his head sort of spinning, and when he has to curl his fingers around her waist and pull her closer and press their foreheads together he feels his heart racing.

The problem with having a very small crush on a co-worker whom he gets paid to be very physically close to is that it does make life pretty inconvenient.

They pose around each other for a few minutes, Chris ordering them to stand closer together, further apart, touch hands, move away, kiss, hand in her hair, Percy, but all the while Percy is very aware of Dionysus standing to the side with sharp eyes, expression inscrutable. He tries not to let it get to him but he feels even Annabeth become live with tension, and he knows they’re definitely not looking as relaxed as they’re aiming for. After a few more minutes, Dionysus raises his hand and says, “Stop.”

Chris lowers his camera, and Annabeth and Percy come out of position, frowning at him. Almost subconsciously, his arm snakes around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. She goes willingly.

Big deal or not, Jupiter still feels cold and unfriendly, and Percy’s guessing he wouldn’t be far off if he says they’re both feeling pretty unnerved.

Dionysus takes a few steps closer, still in silence, an unreadable look on his face, his fingers stroking at his chin. After a very long pause, he calls, “Tammi, Kelli, can you come here, please?”

Two of the perky, bouncy models come jogging up. They’re both beautiful, but in that unattainable, shiny way that models sometimes are, in matching shorts and tank tops and smiles with far too much teeth. “Hey, Dionysus!” one of them chirps. “What’s up?”

Dionysus is still studying Percy and Annabeth like flies under a microscope. “Kelli. Switch with Annabeth.”

Percy frowns. “What?”

“Oh, don’t take it personally,” Dionysus says insincerely. “It’s just—well, this isn’t working for me.”

He can feel Annabeth slip away, but he tightens his arm around her shoulder. It’s not enough to stop her moving if she really wanted to, but she pauses anyway. “And why is that?” he asks.

Dionysus shrugs. “I don’t like the look of you both together. You don’t have any aesthetic chemistry.”

“But—Annabeth is my partner.”

“Yes, at Eros. But you’re in my playing field now, and I don’t like the look of the two of you together.”

Percy frowns, incredulous. Annabeth says, “That’s ridiculous, we work together.”

“And I appreciate that,” Dionysus says, in a voice that says he really doesn’t. “Truly. But this magazine is about fashion, and about two people who compliment each other and the clothes they’re wearing. I don’t give two hoots about the aesthetics of human anatomy or intimacy, or whatever drivel you’re doing at Eros. Percy – you’re young, and strapping, and healthy-looking. You are exactly what we’re looking for. But Annabeth – well, you look like an anorexic baby bird who is seconds away from killing someone. They may like that kind of thing at Eros, and whatever sick kink magazines you worked before that, but here, I don’t. I don’t think you work well with Percy, and I think Kelli does. I mean, just look at her. She’s bursting with youth.”

Kelli beams at them both. Admittedly, she’s very beautiful – she’s got long, thick brown hair and glowing tanned skin, with legs for days and green eyes – but she’s not Annabeth. She’ll never be Annabeth.

“Annabeth’s my partner,” Percy says. “I don’t want to do this if I can’t do it with her.”

“That’s very sweet,” Dionysus says, “but unfortunately, that’s not how it’s going to work. Annabeth, you can go over there, stand and watch, or there are a few toilets around nearby if you want to stick your fingers down your throat and throw up a bit more. Percy, look alive. Kelli, keep doing what you’re doing.” He smiles at them all. “Are we good?”

Percy stares at him. Suddenly, the glamorous dream of Jupiter is all slowly crumbling. He’s only been modelling for a short time. Jupiter was _Annabeth’s_ dream, not his. And he’s been looking forward to it because if he gets to see that beautiful, genuine smile on her face for a whole day he thinks he can die happy. But now Annabeth is being harried away because she doesn’t look healthy enough.

And maybe it’s true. Maybe her skin doesn’t glow and maybe her joints stick out a little too much and her hair is too thin, and maybe her fingertips are stained with nicotine and her eyes are a little lifeless. But when she comes alive she can be even more dynamic than Percy.

Dionysus just isn’t seeing it.

He tries one more time. “But—”

“Percy,” Annabeth says. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! This—this is your dream.”

She shrugs. “Some dreams don’t work for everyone.”

He stares at her. “Annabeth.”

“It’s okay,” she says. She smiles. “Go charm her.”

But that’s not a real smile.

“Annabeth,” he says again.

She walks away. He watches her go.

Somehow, it feels worse than Dionysus’s words.

Kelli steps in her place and Chris raises his camera again. But it doesn’t feel right, and he can’t take his eyes off Annabeth sitting in the long grass next to Piper.

As soon as the photoshoot is over and Percy can finally disentangle himself from Kelli, he’s over to Annabeth like a whippet.

“Annabeth, I’m so—”

“If you say sorry we’re no longer friends,” Annabeth says.

Percy’s mouth snaps closed. “...Apologetic?”

She just rolls her eyes. “It’s not a huge deal. We had a few shoots together today anyway.”

But Percy knows Annabeth, and he knows that it _is_ a huge deal. He’s been modelling only for a few months, and it’s not really what he wants to do, just a fun side-hobby that guarantees a ladder out of student debt and an in with one of his favourite people. And he’s not even really sure if this is what Annabeth wants to do, either. But Jupiter meant more to her than it did to him. He only did it because the opportunity made her smile.

And the fact that Dionysus can treat her so disposably... “It’s just not right,” he says.

Annabeth shrugs. “That’s showbiz, Peaches.”

“Or maybe it’s Dionysus being a dick,” Percy says, and collapses in the grass next to her. “You shouldn’t let that be an excuse for the way he treats you.”

“Welcome to modelling.”

“At Eros it isn’t like this.”

“That’s because we’re lucky at Eros. Most models have an expiration date, because that’s when your butt begins to sag. Aphrodite isn’t really like that.”

“I know! Everyone at Eros is cool. The people here are terrifying. I think all the wardrobe and makeup people wanted to kill me, and Kelli’s sort of terrifying.”

Annabeth cracks a smile, finally, and Percy feels something ease in his chest. “She does sort of give off a vampiric vibe,” she says. “In a Brandy Melville sort of way.”

Percy doesn’t know who that is, but he agrees. Something doesn’t sit right with him about Kelli, or Tammi, for that matter, and it’s only a little bit because their names are both spelt with ‘I’s. They’re both very beautiful, don’t get him wrong, but there was just something almost predatory in Kelli’s eyes, like she wanted to eat him, like a lion.

“Well, I’m not doing that again,” he says. “We’re going back to Eros and staying there. We don’t need any of this snooty elitism. Deal?”

“Deal,” Annabeth says, and they both clink paper cups and drink. “Oh, also,” she says, after they’ve swallowed and settled, “about your birthday.”

“You really don’t need to get me a present,” Percy starts, but she cuts him off.

“Shut up, Percy. Besides, it’s not about that, not really.” She drums her fingers against her leg, suddenly looking almost shy. “I was wondering if you wanted to do something. Like, just us.”

Percy’s heartbeat suddenly feels like it’s in his ears. “Oh?”

“No, shut up. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like— _that_.”

He grins. “Okay, sorry. What do you have in mind?”

The hairy eyeball Annabeth’s giving him tells him that he’s still giving her a look, but she says, “I just—I wanted to thank you.”

Percy frowns. “Thank me?”

Annabeth’s expression is calculating, like she’s trying to work out the best to phrase it. “For—always sticking with me,” she says. “Even though I haven’t been the nicest. That’s—you’re one of the first people to do that, and it really—means a lot. Not many people stuck around.”

His eyebrows lift in surprise. “What happened to Annabeth I-don’t-like-being-forming-any-sort-of-relationships-with-my-partners Chase?”

She shrugs, cheeks flushed, unable to meet his eyes. “Maybe I found someone worth having a relationship with.”

His words die on the tip of his tongue. He stares at her.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll gut you like a fish,” she adds quickly, uncomfortable.

Percy’s chest fills with dozens of emotions he can’t name. He feels like a balloon, untethered, ready to drift into the great unknown, and he’s staring at her, at her sharp grey eyes and long blonde hair, the most beautiful person he’s ever known, sitting in front of him, and not for the first time feels so overwhelmingly, crushingly happy that he almost can’t feel his fingers. “I feel the same way, you know,” he forces out, so she knows, so she has an idea about how much she means to him, but it must work, because the line of her shoulders soften.

Annabeth still can’t meet his eyes, pulling hard at a loose thread, but her head lifts just a bit. “Oh yeah?”

“ _Yeah_ , you huge sap, you.” He shifts closer. “Of course we’ll do something. What are you thinking of? Moonlit walk on the beach? Romantic dinner for two? Will there be rose petals? Should we cancel the movie night?”

“No, no. I want—I want to do that, too. But—maybe after? We can have a picnic or something.”

Percy sits up. “Dude, yes! There’s a fire escape at my apartment, leads onto the roof. We can totally have a romantic picnic under the stars.”

“I feel like you’re getting all your date gestures from boyband music videos,” Annabeth says, and he cackles. “That sounds great, actually. I’ll bring you a pretty party dress to wear.”

Percy grins. “Awesome. Hey, need any water? I’m just about to go get some.”

“That’ll be lovely,” Annabeth says, and he smiles at her as he climbs to his feet and plods towards the water table.

He’s just plucked a cup off the tower, waiting in line to fill it with water, when suddenly:

“Hey, Percy.”

Percy turns around. It’s Kelli and Tammi, the models from before. The power of their mega-watt smiles is almost dazzling combined, and he has to suppress the weird urge to squint. “Uh, hey,” he says.

Kelli twirls a piece of hair around her finger. “Is it true that your birthday is tomorrow?”

He feels inexplicably uncomfortable. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries not to look awkward. “Yep.”

“How old are you turning?”

“Twenty.”

Tammi giggles. “So you’re not, like, legal.”

Percy’s eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline. “Uh.” He clears his throat. “That—really depends on what we’re talking about.”

“Drinking, silly!” Kelli says.

Tammi smiles coyly. “Unless you’re thinking of something else?”

They both simper at him. Percy feels a little afraid. “Nope. Not—not at all, I was also thinking of drinking. Underage drinking. Because. I’m underage.”

Kelli and Tammi glance at each other. “We want to take you out,” Tammi says.

Percy frowns. “Both—of you?”

“Not on a date,” Kelli says, but her predatory smile really says something else. “ _Out_. Like, drinking.”

If possible, he feels his eyebrows raise even higher. “ _Oh_ ,” he says.

“We can get you a fake ID,” Tammi explains. “It could be, like, totally fun!”

“Totally,” Kelli agrees. “It can give you a bit of experience for when you really do turn twenty-one.” They both giggle. Percy isn’t massively sure why.

“Uh,” he says. “Look, I’m really flattered, but I’m actually—”

“We won’t keep you all night,” Tammi says. “I mean, you’re obviously doing something with Annabelle, aren’t you?”

Percy’s smile tightens. “Annabeth.”

“Well, she can take you afterwards,” Tammi says. “We’ll only have you for a few hours.”

“I’m doing something with my friends as well,” Percy says. “I’m sorry, but—”

Kelli rolls her eyes. “They’re not going to have you all day.”

Tammi giggles. “Yeah, that would be, like, psychotic.”

They both stare manically at him. Suitably afraid, Percy stammers, “Right.”

“Well,” Kelli says, “we’ll just take you after! And then Annabelle can take you after that. Sound good?”

“Uh—”

“Fab!” Tammi says. She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket and slides it in the waistband of his jeans. “Call us.”

Together, they strut away. Percy doesn’t really know what just happened.

*

“You know,” Leo says, “when you first invited us over, I didn’t know what was going to happen. I was half expecting an orgy. Maybe Thalia had finally fallen victim to the wiles of my masculine charm.”

“Never gonna happen,” Thalia says from the kitchen.

Leo ignores her. “But this... this almost exceeds that. A movie marathon in bed with a bunch of attractive people all to celebrate Percy becoming a man? Count me in.”

“Stop being inappropriate, Leo,” Jason says. He’s looking at the pictures on Percy’s wall, hands respectfully clasped behind his back. He turns head to look at Percy. “Thanks for inviting us, Percy.”

Jason and Leo have been Thalia and Percy’s neighbours ever since they all moved into their dorms the first year, and Percy thinks they’re both pretty solid dudes, if a little weird. Leo lives two doors down and looks about fifteen years old, and within the first two weeks he had somehow managed to set off the fire alarm five times, whereas Jason is sensible and diplomatic and wears glasses and polos and probably models himself, except not for slightly racy magazines, for something like gum, or toothpaste, or colleges. He’s the kind of dude that you see on the back of buses with the blue text that says JOIN NYU AND BECOME A DOCTOR LIKE ME that you actually believe.

(He and Thalia also have the same last name. They’re not related, despite how hilarious that would be. Percy still uses it against her every opportunity can.)

“It’s no problem,” Percy says. “Nachos?”

“Oh, oui oui,” Leo says, collapsing on his bed and picking up a nacho heaped with melted cheese. “Who else is coming?”

“A few friends,” Percy says. “Piper and Annabeth. They’re pretty cool.”

“ _And_ off-limits,” Thalia says, sailing into the room with a plate of pizza. “Don’t even try, Valdez.”

Leo raises his hands. “I’m still holding out for you, querida.”

“Have fun dying alone.”

“She loves me,” Leo says to Percy and Jason, and Percy snorts. Jason good-naturedly pats his arm.

At that moment, there’s a knock at the door. Thalia opens it to reveal Piper and Annabeth, both bundled in jackets, their hands laden with food and wine, with a suspicious white bag slung on Annabeth’s arm. When she catches sight of Percy staring, she says, “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not thinking about anything,” he denies, but he’s grinning. “Good to see you, Chase.”

“And me, presumably,” Piper says.

“You know it’s nice to see you, it’s why you here,” he says, but he gives her a hug anyway. “Need any help with your coat?”

“Oh- _ho_ , manners, wonder where they came from.” But she wriggles out of her jacket anyway. “Thanks, that’s great. I also have...” At that moment, her eyes, scanning the room, fall upon Jason, and her words trail off. “Uh.”

Jason looks equally as struck. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she breathes.

“Dear God,” Thalia mutters, and pours herself a glass of Piper’s wine.

“I’m Jason,” Jason says, holding out his hand. Piper accepts it and Percy swears he can see sparks. “How do you know Percy?”

“We met at work,” Piper says. “You have—great bone structure.”

Jason blushes. “Really?”

There’s a beat. “I’ve also been told I have good bone structure,” Leo says, from Percy’s bed. They both ignore him.

Thalia downs the entire glass in one go.

As Jason and Piper get swept up, Percy heads over to Annabeth and takes her jacket from her. Now that she’s not wearing it, he can see her outfit properly. It’s occurred to him that he’s never properly seen her in streetwear – maybe at the beginning of shoots he’ll catch a glimpse, but for the most part it’s just the clothes she’s been instructed to wear, and most the time they’re harmless enough that when they go for milkshakes they won’t change. But she looks really cute today – a simple orange shirt and jeans and wrong socks, and he finds it sort of really endearing.

“Hey,” he says. “You look nice.”

“It’s your birthday,” she says. “Obviously.”

He grins. “What’s in the bag?”

“Later.” She glances at Piper and Jason. “That your friend?”

“Yeah, Jason. Leo’s on the bed.”

Leo nods at her, mouth full and fingers covered in cheese and guacamole.

“Lovely,” she says.

“He is. They both are.”

Annabeth looks around. “Not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting it to look like this.”

“What, my place? Were you expecting blue sheets and pictures of athletes and hot girls on the wall? Because that’s stereotypical.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Besides, you do.” She points at one of his posters, which is a blonde girl on a balcony. Looking closer, Percy realises with a flush it’s the picture of her from his first edition of Eros, but it doesn’t appear Annabeth has noticed yet.

“I like beautiful things,” he says, and Annabeth scoffs until she properly looks at it.

“Wait, is that...?”

“Yeah,” he says. “From my first magazine.”

She looks at him with an indecipherable look in her eyes. “You’re so weird,” she says finally. Percy knows her, though, and that’s Annabeth for _thank you_.

Across the room, Thalia finishes her second glass of wine and says, “All right, love birds, can it, you’ve had your moments. Let’s start watching hobbits kill each other.”

“That’s not what it is at all,” Annabeth says, but she’s drowned out by Leo loudly declaring, “Hear, hear!” and spilling squeezy cheese all over the bed sheets. Thalia disappears into the kitchen and comes out bearing a white-frosted birthday cake with a picture of Percy, aged twelve, sticky-out ears and all, on the top.

Percy glares half-heartedly at her. Thalia just shrugs modestly and says, “I used Zeus’s card to get it specially made.”

“How the hell do you know his card?”

“Photographic memory,” Thalia says. “The mind can do extraordinary things when you’re out for blood.”

Percy doesn’t even try understanding her anymore. He carves out a solid slice and heaps it onto a plate, collapsing against the head board. Everyone else collects their servings and joins him on the bed, curling around each other and spilling wine, as Thalia rests her laptop against a footstool and presses play on the first movie.

As far as birthdays, it’s definitely not the most extravagant. When Percy was thirteen his dad randomly came out the waterworks in a freshly-pressed suit, awkward smile and good intentions, and had brought him to his ranch. (Because Poseidon Jackson was the kind of man who owned a ranch. What even.) Percy got to ride a horse and hang out with his dad for a day, and even though Poseidon was a little misguided and gave him cufflinks as a present despite neither Percy nor his mom having the money for a shirt for them to go in, it was still—nice.

But this is better. This, surrounded by friends, Leo spilling black beans all over his carpet, Jason and Piper making googly-eyes across the bed, Thalia halfway to drunk and loudly whispering to Percy about how if she squinted enough she could probably be convinced to hook up with Legolas, Annabeth with her head propped against his shoulder, licking icing off her fork, her body a solid, reassuring weight against his side – _this_ is what Percy wants.

But halfway during The Two Towers his phone goes off in his pocket, and it doesn’t stop.

“Perce?” Leo says, ten minutes later, as it’s still ringing. “Are you going to answer that?”

“I’ve declined it, like, ten times,” Percy says. “And it’s an unfamiliar number, I don’t know how to shut it up.”

“Just put it on silent,” Thalia slurs, cramming cake into her mouth.

Percy does, but he can still feel it ringing, like a brand in his pocket. Finally, he exhales and answers, snapping, “What?”

“Hey, Percy,” a familiar voice purrs.

Percy sits up in alarm. “Kelli?”

Annabeth’s eyes go wide. Even Piper stops mooning over Jason to glance at him. “You mean the psychotic girl from your shoot?”

“What shoot?” Leo says.

“How did you get my number?” Percy demands.

Kelli giggles. “Don’t be silly! I got it off Dionysus.”

“Me, Percy and Annabeth work for a magazine,” Piper explains. “Eros? Have you heard of it?”

“Never,” Jason says.

“No,” Leo says. (Percy does not believe him. His ears have gone red.)

“ _Dionysus_?” Percy repeats.

Someone else giggles. Dear God. He also recognises that voice. “Maybe,” Tammi says. “We were just wondering when you were going to join us to go clubbing tonight!”

Annabeth mouths, _what are they saying?_

Percy sighs. “Guys—”

“Oh, come on, Percy,” Kelli croons. “You wouldn’t leave us hanging, would you?”

“I’m already doing something.”

“Oh, _boo_!” Tammi says. “Not even for a bit?”

“What are they asking?” Thalia says.

“Nothing,” Percy says distractedly. “Look, I’m gonna—take this in the bathroom, okay? You guys keep watching the film.”

Everyone contentedly turns back to the laptop, but Annabeth watches him, worrying at her lower lip. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Be right back.”

He heads into his bathroom, and locks the door behind him. On the phone, one of them, he’s not sure, coos, “You still here?”

“I’m here,” he says, and collapses on the closed toilet lid. He scrubs a hand across his face, sighing. “I’m busy, I can’t make it.”

“Not even for a few hours?” Tammi says. “We promise it’ll be worth your while.”

“Besides,” Kelli all but purrs, “we may have something in it for you.”

Percy rolls his eyes. Okay, yeah right. “What.”

“We work very closely with Dionysus with Jupiter,” Tammi says. “And right now he’s looking through all the pictures from the shoot yesterday trying to decide which one is going to make the cover.”

“You think I’m going to be bribed with a cover shot? Seriously?”

“Oh, not you,” Kelli says. “Annabeth.”

Percy frowns. “What?”

“Dionysus doesn’t like her,” Tammi says bluntly. “And I see why, to be honest. She’s got chicken legs and her hair’s a mess, and the fact that I can, like, see her hipbones is kind of gross. Anorexia-chic is _so_ 2013\. But we know the Jupiter shoot was really big for her. So, we’ll make a deal. You come out with us, and Annabeth makes the cover. Otherwise, she won’t make the magazine at all, and we’ll blacklist her from all other big magazines.”

Percy stands up. “Are you _serious_? You’re _blackmailing_ us?”

“Oh, hon, not _you_ ,” Kelli says, with a giggle. “But we just want to hang out with you. Surely you understand that.”

Percy blows out a breath, and pulls away his phone to check the time. It’s only around ten at night. And... they _are_ only halfway through the second movie. If he pops out now, he can make it back before the end of The Return of the King, and he and Annabeth can still go up the rooftop.

I’m doing this for her, he tells himself.

“Fine,” he says reluctantly, between gritted teeth. “Fine, I’ll come out with you. For an hour, tops.”

They both squeal so loudly he has to pull his phone away from his ear again. “I’ll text you the address!” Kelli says. “See you then!”

The line goes dead. Percy stares down at the black screen and wonders what the hell he’s doing.

He emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later. Annabeth looks up as he walks in. “Everything okay?”

He nods. “Uh, yeah. I’m just gonna pop out for a bit, get more food.”

“Sweet!” Leo says, not peeling his eyes away from the screen. “Get me something from Taco Bell, I’ve been craving it all day.”

“And more alcohol,” Thalia says.

“I’m not twenty-one,” Percy says.

“Don’t be pessimistic.”

But Annabeth is frowning. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Percy says. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest. “I’ll be back soon.”

“See you!” Jason says.

“Get some Doritos as well!” Leo calls as Percy heads towards the door. “Chilli heatwave, though, none of that cool original crap.”

“Duly noted,” Percy says. “See you.”

He closes the door on everyone’s farewells, and then stares at the carpeted hallway as the reality of what he’s doing truly hits him. _Crap_. What is he doing? He can’t get Annabeth’s face out of his head, eyes wide in concern. Everyone’s too tipsy to really see anything was wrong, but he knows Annabeth can hold her alcohol like a brick wall; she’s way too observant, and she definitely know something’s up.

It’ll only be for an hour or two, he reassures himself. And I’m doing this for her.

Somehow, it only makes him feel worse. He shoves his hands in his pockets and heads for the lift.

The address Kelli texted him leads him to a club on the high street called _Neon Pleasures_. It absolutely doesn’t look like his type of haunt in the slightest – all the windows have light-up signs and pictures of what looks like the inside, which shows a long, polished bar, a dance floor and an actual _pole_ in the corner. He blows out a breath, internally pulls on his big boy pants, and heads on inside.

He spots Tammi and Kelli almost immediately, probably because they’re in near-identical outfits. They’re at the bar surrounded by other girls, also all in tiny shorts and even tinier tops, and when one of them catches sight of him they all light up like one of the signs. “Percy!” one trills, and suddenly he’s being pulled into the throng by the hand.

Kelli smirks when she sees him. “Percy,” she purrs. “Didn’t expect you to show up.”

“When you blackmail my friend it’s kind of hard not to,” he says.

Kelli just laughs. “Oh, that? Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramat—”

“These are all my friends from Jupiter,” she continues, like he never spoke. She gestures at all the girls around them. They all look almost exactly like her. Percy’s not surprised to learn they’re also all from Jupiter. “Girls, this is Percy. He’s... _inexperienced_ , so be gentle.”

“I’ve had alcohol before,” Percy says.

“Oh, not about that, hon.” Before the true meaning of her words can truly sink in, someone passes with a tray of shots, and she grabs two. “Here! Try one!”

“Oh, no—”

She gives him a look. “Are you gonna be this pathetic the whole night?”

“Considering I don’t even want to be here?”

She rolls her eyes and throws back her shot in one fluid movement, and then slams her little plastic glass back onto the counter. “Listen,” she says. “I’m aware we got you here using less than moral methods. But you have two choices. One, you can sit here and whine about how annoying we are. Or, you can let loose and have fun. We’re only keeping you here for a few hours. Liven up.”

Percy stares down at the shot in his hands. He’s aware of Kelli is staring at him expectantly, waiting for him, but he’s torn. On one hand, she literally threatened to get one of his best friends completely out of work if he didn’t come out with her, and also, it’s his birthday, he shouldn’t be getting blackmailed on one of the happiest days of his life. That can wait for tomorrow.

But, on the other hand...

It can’t hurt.

Kelli watches as he drinks it. It burns his throat like gasoline, and he splutters. “That was terrible,” he rasps. “Never doing that again.”

“I can be persuasive,” Kelli says, and then grabs his hand. “Come on, hotshot. Let’s dance.”

*

Percy’s definitely drunk.

He’s not sure how long it’s been, or how many drinks he’s had, but the entire world is spinning and everything is purple and kind of blurry. He remembers doing a few shots, all of them different colours, and then someone else bought him a drink, and another drink, and—

Well, he’s had a lot. But it’s his birthday! He can let loose too.

He’s on the dance floor. He’s had alcohol before but never like this, never to the point of being really drunk, and he kind of loves it. There are people jumping all around him to the beat of the music, and he can feel the bass vibrate through the floor. He’s having the best time. And then there are hands around his waist, and when he turns he sees Tammi, hair wild, eyes wide, grinning, and he shouts, “This is so cool!”

“Told you you’d like it!” she says. “Dance with me!”

“Okay!” he shouts. He hopes the do the Macarena. That was always his favourite at school discos.

But then she slides her hands around his hips and is pulling him closer, and he frowns because this is definitely not the Macarena. Her hands travel up his chest and then lace around his neck, and she stares at him through her lashes, and he suddenly feels paralysed, because something about this feels _wrong_.

“I’m glad you’re here, Percy,” she says. “I know we didn’t really get off to the best start tonight, but you’re having fun now, right?”

It’s like being doused with a bucket of cold water. Percy takes a step back, horrified. “What time is it?”

Tammi frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He pulls away completely and fumbles around for his phone in his pockets. His fingers feel numb, foreign, like they don’t really belong to him, but he manages to grab hold of his phone and pull it out in front of him, frantically switching it on. There are dozens of texts, calls – and the time reads 1:23am.

Oh, no, no, no.

“No,” Percy hisses, and in a frenzy calls back the last person on his home screen, Thalia. It rings and rings but she doesn’t pick up, and Percy’s heartbeat becomes faster and faster the longer he stares at it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“Percy?” Tammi says.

“I need to go,” he blurts, and dashes.

He’s still drunk, but something about the knowledge that he’s so, so screwed manages to keep him upright and carry him back to the dorms. He stumbles into a few walls, but the longer he runs, and the more his quickening breath stings and burns the back of his throat, the more lucid things become to him. All he knows by the time he reaches the dorm block again he’s breathless and when he stops at the elevator, waiting for it, his legs are shaking and his hands are trembling. He curses and shoves them in his pockets, closing his eyes.

He’s made such a mistake.

After what feels like forever, the lift dings and the doors slide open. He heads in and presses the button for the forth floor, and then drops his head into his hands. Now that he’s not running, now that he’s still and can properly think, he realises just how badly he’s screwed up.

He just ditched his friends in the middle of his own birthday, and Annabeth—

Oh God. _Annabeth_.

“Damn it!” he shouts, and slams his fist against one of the walls. When he opens his eyes, he finds himself face-to-face with his own reflection: bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and a lipstick stain on his cheek. He stares at it for a few moments, before turning away and roughly scrubbing the lipstick away.

He can’t even look at himself.

The lift lets out a soft ding as it arrives at the floor, and the doors slide open. Percy doesn’t even waste any time stopping by his room to check if people are still there. He knows the movie’s finished, and he knows he’d promised to meet Annabeth at the roof, so he heads there first. He darts down the hallway until he reaches the fire escape, when he wrenches open the door and frantically climbs up the metal steps until he reaches the roof.

When he emerges at the top, he stops dead in his tracks at the sight. It’s Annabeth, curled up on a blanket, a basket next to her, and her white bag leaning against it. She’s on her phone, but when she hears him coming her eyes flick over the top.

He stares at her.

She doesn’t look upset, but her eyes are _stone_.

The irony of it, all he supposes, is the last time he saw her look like that was also on a fire escape.

He doesn’t even know where to begin. “Annabeth, I’m so—”

“I knew you weren’t going to the shops,” she says. Her voice is flat. “As soon as you walked out the bathroom I knew you were going to be with them.”

“Annabeth, you don’t understand—”

“I thought you were different, you know.” Her voice cracks, and she furiously sniffs, wrapping her long, thin arms around her legs and staring off the roof. “I—you were the first partner that ever wanted to be my friend. Everyone else just wanted sex or nothing at all.”

Percy just stares helplessly at her. “I’m so sorry.”

She shrugs. “Don’t be. Aphrodite loves you. If I ask for a new partner, she’ll still keep you. You don’t have to worry about getting fired.”

“You think this is what it’s about?” Percy asks. “You think I _care_ about that?”

“I don’t know,” she says. She stands up, picking up the basket and white bag. She’s never looked so breakable. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

She starts walking towards him, towards the door. He tries to grab her arm. “Annabeth—”

She rootles around in her bag, and shoves something against his chest. “Happy birthday,” she spits. “Hope you like it.”

And then she’s gone.

Percy stares after her, and then looks down at what she’s handed him. It’s a picture in a simple black frame, but it takes a few moments for his brain to really register what the picture is.

It’s from their first ever shoot together, the chemistry test. They’re sitting on sleek, black stools, ankles are linked, and Percy looks mid-sentence, mouth open, hands enthusiastically gesticulating. But Annabeth – Annabeth’s looking at him, mouth in a close-lipped smile, but her eyes are sparkling, and something about her expression is so achingly, beautifully earnest, that for a few moments he can’t breathe.

_She’s made out of titanium. She is terrible at making friends and she does it on purpose. You’ll try to be polite to her and she’ll freeze you out immediately. She hates everyone and the reason why she can never settle on one partner is because she’s crap at being a decent human._

Here, she looks fond.

Here—here, she looks like she loves him.

And that was the first day they met.

He thinks he’s just made one of the biggest mistakes in his life.

*

“Wow,” Thalia says. “You really got yourself in a mess, didn’t you.”

Percy drops his head into his hands. “I know.”

“No, I don’t quite think you do. Let me just repeat this back to you so you can see how royally you screwed up. These two punk-ass bitches have been plaguing you since the Jupiter shoot, to the point of getting your literal phone number off of Dionysus, which, creepy. They want you to hang out with them on your birthday for some reason, so they decide to do it by blackmailing you with blacklisting Annabeth from all the big magazine publications. You go, but you get super drunk because you were tempted—”

“I wasn’t tempted,” Percy grouches, but Thalia waggles her finger at him as she sips her coffee.

“Said Eve to Adam! Tammi and Kelly were your evil snake. You were weak-ass Eve, and I was God, telling you to _not_. Anyway, they get you super drunk, you lose track of time, and despite literally planning out a date with the girl you’re disgustingly in love with, like, dude, come on, you completely forget until you don’t, but by then you’re several hours late. Am I right?”

Head buried in his arms, Percy says pitifully, “Yes.”

“Wow,” Thalia says. “That’s—really pathetic.”

He glares half-heartedly at her. “Yeah, thanks. I know. Currently drowning in heartache, remember? I need your help.”

Thalia finishes the dregs of her coffee, and hoists herself onto the counter, refilling her mug. “With what?”

“Apologising to Annabeth.”

“I can’t help you with that. You got into this mess, you get yourself out of it.”

“She’s not talking to me. How can I apologise if she won’t talk to me?”

Thalia rolls her eyes. “She’s hurt, Percy. Give her time.”

Percy sniffles a little. “Remember when you gave me a talk like this about her hurting me in this kitchen?”

“Vividly,” Thalia says. “At least we didn’t have to worry about that.”

He groans.

“Okay, seriously, though. You hurt her pretty bad, Perce. You’re gonna just have to give her a bit of breathing room, and then she’ll let you talk. Trust me. You made a dumb mistake, yeah, but she really cares about you. She’ll come around, I promise.”

“Can you text her?”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. I’m not touching this with a barge pole. You two can work out your own problems. Which might actually be soon. I have news.”

Percy lifts his head up. “Oh yeah?”

“You’ve got another shoot.”

He deflates. “That doesn’t matter. Annabeth said she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh, I know. This is solo. I have Aphrodite on Instagram, we’ve been DMing. I explained everything to her and she took Annabeth off your roster for a bit, so you can both cool down, but she’s pairing her back with you in a few weeks. Don’t worry, it’s not permanent. Besides, I think she just wants to genuinely see you work alone. There was something about covering you in glitter and making you read newspapers. I don’t know.”

“Yay,” Percy says glumly.

Thalia nudges at him with her foot. “Chin up, dude. Things will work themselves out. Besides, aside from the whole drinking-yourself-to-oblivion-and-forgetting-your-date, you were actually being a pretty decent friend. At least Annabeth will get the cover.”

“Yeah, if Tammi and Kelli don’t take it back.”

“We’ll sue. And if she doesn’t it may be for the best, that magazine is sort of trash. I mean, from the outside, no, but the inside? I didn’t trust a single person. I didn’t even trust that little white house. I peed in my cup.”

Percy wrinkles his nose. “Thalia, gross.”

She just sips her coffee imperiously. “Being cautious. Didn’t want to catch a disease from whatever was growing in that toilet.”

Percy just rolls his eyes and rests his chin on his arms. “When’s my shoot?”

“In a week, I think. Next Thursday. Aphrodite will email you at some point today, probably. And by that point, it might even be safe to talk to Annabeth again.” She reaches forward and rubs his shoulder. “Honestly, dude. It’s going to be okay.”

Percy really hopes so.

In actuality, he’s terrified. He’s heard the myth and legend of Annabeth Chase – the unbreakable one, the model who never smiles, who’s been through seven different partners because she’s so unlikeable. And Percy thought he was different. Evidently, so did she.

But on the rooftop, it was like that first day on the fire escape all over again. Her mask was back on, her expression carefully cool, aside from the tears in the corners of her eyes. He’d really hurt her. And if he hadn’t seen her face – well, she’d been waiting on the roof for hours.

He really, really screwed up. He just hopes that he’ll be able to talk to her soon.

The week leading up to his shoot moves at a snail pace. He does his schoolwork, pointedly doesn’t check his phone, and stares at Annabeth’s present. It’s hung on his wall above his bed. Every time he looks at it, he spots something new; he was wearing two wrong socks. Annabeth had a butterfly pin in her hair. He had a stain on his sleeve. She had a dimple in her cheek.

Maybe he’s pining, just a bit.

The day of the shoot dawns bright and early, but unlike the one at Jupiter it moves slowly, like he’s wading through treacle. He sits, half-awake, on his bed, eating cereal, staring blankly at the wall. It’s a solo shoot. Annabeth probably isn’t going to be there. Still, he hopes.

Thalia meets him outside the door, and together they catch the train over to the Eros headquarters. She’s unusually subdued, but Percy doesn’t mind. He thinks she’s just matching his mood, which he appreciates; he doesn’t think he could take her full personality so early in the morning on a day like this.

When they walk into the studio, Aphrodite is standing talking to one of the tech people in the corner, but when she spots him she immediately pauses the conversation to glide over to him and sweep him in a hug. Today she’s wearing a floaty red dress that makes her look like she’s in a cloud, and she smells of roses, and for some reason, Percy feels tears prcik at his eyes. He thinks he’s just tired.

“Oh, darling,” Aphrodite says, when she pulls back. “You look like a little panda. Have you been sleeping well? Getting your iron?”

“Been thinking a lot,” he says, and she makes a sympathetic noise.

“Is it about Annabeth?”

He nods.

“Oh, that girl. Don’t worry, I’m in the know. I know the 4-1-1. Thalia caught me up. Annabeth’s just—she’s very stubborn, but she’ll come around. And don’t you worry, I’m dealing with Dionysus and his parasitic models as we speak.”

Percy manages a laugh. “I think he thinks you’re dead.”

“Oh, he does. I plan to use that to my advantage. Come back from the dead, I mean. I think he’d believe it, too, he’s quite gullible, that man, and I am rather exquisite, so if anyone were to come back from the dead it would be me.” She cups his cheek and stares into his eyes. “Don’t you worry, Percy. I’m sorting things out right now. If I get my way, which I will, because I always do, you and Annabeth will make the cover, and then you’ll never have to touch that publication ever again. The audacity to say those things about my Annabeth. That’s insulting to me.”

Percy suddenly feels like he has a lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he says.

“It is my pleasure, Percy, darling. You’re part of the family now. You can even call me Mom if you want. It is my mission to take care of you. And that includes smacking some sense into Annabeth. She will come around, she’s just hurt.”

“Is she here?”

“You know, I’m really not sure. I think I may have seen her, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. God knows that girl can disappear like a ghost. It’s quite a talent.” She smiles at him, firm and motherly, and then squeezes his shoulder. “Right, you go get ready. Drew has instructions on what to do to you.”

He nods at her gratefully, and then heads off towards Drew’s makeup station. She’s checking her phone when he approaches, snapping at her bubblegum, and when she hears him she looks up, and then rolls her eyes.

“Oh,” she says distastefully. “It’s you.”

“Drew,” Percy says. “It’s _great_ to see you.”

She gives him a look. “Are you on drugs?”

“No, just—happy to see you.”

“Whatever, weirdo,” she says. “Sit still, I need to glue sequins to your face.”

*

The photoshoot is relatively short, and actually pretty fun. Percy had thought it would be awkward, just to do a shoot all by himself, but it was sort of empowering, to sit at a table, cheeks covered in blue glitter, surrounded by flowers and fancy teapots. Also, having Aphrodite and Drew stand next to each other on the side, delighted and unimpressed, respectively, made it sort of all worthwhile.

However, as he’s walking offset, picking glitter out of his hair, he bumps into someone coming out of the bathroom. When he looks up, he sees it’s Piper.

“Percy!” she says.

“Hey.”

Privately, he’s expecting her to completely just walk away. As Annabeth’s friend, he would almost think it was her duty. But instead, she gives him a soft, concerned look. “How are you?”

For a few moments, he’s too surprised to respond, but then he remembers himself. “Honestly?” he says. “Not great. Feeling pretty crappy.”

“I heard about what went down,” she says.

“You’re—not gonna yell at me?”

“I want to. And you’d deserve it, sort of. But Thalia also told me they also kind of blackmailed you. It doesn’t excuse you getting drunk and completely forgetting about Annabeth, but—you had the right intentions. And while I love Annabeth, sometimes I don’t always agree with her.”

“Like on what?”

“Her decision not to hear you out. She’d still be angry, but she’d understand.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I really don’t think she feels like talking to me.”

Piper considers him for a few moments. “She’s in the park, across the road. You’ll see her.”

Percy’s chest suddenly fills with something inexplicable. “Seriously?”

“Don’t tell her I sent you, she’ll have my head.”

He pauses. “Why _are_ you sending me? Shouldn’t you hate me? I hurt your best friend.”

“You’re a good dude, Percy,” Piper says. “Like, a really good dude, and not just because you have excellent taste in next-door neighbours.” That startles a laugh out of him, but she continues. “I knew it as soon as I approached you in the park. And—the first person not to be scared off by her? That’s a pretty big deal. You make her smile like I’ve never really seen her smile before, and she’s never been so radiant on camera before. You’re good for her, geniunely. And once she hears you out she’ll understand.”

He smiles helplessly at her. Sometimes, he forgets just how cool Piper is. “Thank you. Seriously.”

She just shrugs. “Get me Jason’s number and we’re even.”

“Deal.”

They shake on it.

Piper grins. “Now go get her, tiger.”

Percy doesn’t need to be told twice. Glitter in his hair be damned, he’s out of there like a whippet.

*

He finds Annabeth sat on a park bench, smoking a cigarette.

He tentatively approaches, still really unsure of where he stands. The bench is facing away, so he doesn’t think she’s seen him yet, but as he draws nearer he’s pretty sure he can hear him. When he’s close enough to be in earshot, he pauses, a foot away from the bench.

Annabeth exhales, and cigarette smoke leaves her mouth like star dust. “I know you’re there,” she says.

Percy takes that as invitation enough to sit. Neither of them looks at each other, instead staring out at the park in front of them. It’s a nice enough day, kids running across the grass, kicking around a ball. Percy remembers being that young. It was a good feeling, being so carefree.

They sit in silence for a few moments before Percy says, “I thought you were trying to quit.”

“Hard when the person you’re trying to quit for turns out to be a dick.”

And—that hurts. Percy swallows. “I—probably deserved that.”

Annabeth stubs out her cigarette on the arm rest. “I guess Piper sent you.”

“Technically, I’m not allowed to say.”

That at least gets a snort out of her.

She pulls out another cigarette and her lighter. “So, what? You’re here to apologise?”

“Sort of,” Percy says. He pauses, and then turns his body so he’s facing her. “Can I ask something, though?”

“Go for it.”

“What magazine did you work at before Eros?”

Annabeth’s fingers still. The flame from her lighter flickers. “What?”

“You mentioned you had done work before Eros, and then Dionysus said something about it as well. What was it?”

Annabeth sighs again, but this one feels more resigned, like she already knows she’s going to answer. “I can’t remember the names,” she says. “There were—lots. I free-licenced, at the beginning.”

“Why?”

“Homeless. My step-mom kicked me out before I could finish high score. Didn’t like that I was a reminder of my dad’s old marriage. And no one wanted to hire a kid with no qualifications.” She lights her cigarettes and inhales deeply, flicking ash all over her jeans. “Then I realised I didn’t need any if I was pretty. I slept on this bench.”

Percy glances down. “Really?”

“Yeah. Wasn’t the best few months.”

He looks at her. “So, how did you end up at Eros?”

“Piper approached me in the park. That’s normally how I found work – just lurked around, waited to see if there were any scouts. Normally are, they come around this area a lot. She came up to me, told me I looked interesting, gave me a card, told me to call it. I—waited, for a while. But then I spent a few pennies on a payphone and the rest on a dress and some makeup for the interview.”

“Did she know you were homeless?”

“I think so. She never said anything, but after the photoshoot, when they told me they’d hired me, Aphrodite offered for me to live with her. No catch, she said, just liked it when her models were in one place. S’a big lie, I’m the only one there, along ten more of her kids. But I think they both knew I needed something, so they took me in.”

Percy smiles. “Aphrodite’s really cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

They sit in silence for a bit longer.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says finally, “for my birthday. That—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Annabeth’s eyes flicker over to him. “No,” she says quietly, firmly.

“They threatened me, with you. Said they’d blacklist you from Jupiter and all the other big publications. I went only for an hour, just show up, then go home, but—I got drunk, and—well, you know.” He sighs. “I’m really, really sorry, Annabeth. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’d been looking forward to it all day.”

“Me, too.”

He glances at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You—” She squares her shoulders. “You mean a lot to me, Percy.”

“Your gift was beautiful,” he says. “It’s on my wall.”

“Aphrodite emailed me the pictures the day after our first shoot. I hated them at first. I didn’t like that you’d gotten under my skin so quickly. But—then I just kept looking at them. I hadn’t seen myself look like that for a really long time.”

“I get it,” Percy says. “I have effect.”

She snorts. “I got it printed for you. I—if there was any time to tell you how I felt, I guess it would have been then, with the beginning.”

Percy glances at her. “Felt?”

Annabeth keeps staring straight ahead. “You—really hurt me, Percy.”

“I know.”

“And—I do get it. Kind of. I probably would have done the same. But it was a real dick move.”

“Trust me. I know.”

She looks at him finally. “But you—you are really special to me,” she says. “And it would be really stupid to throw away something like that because some of the models at Jupiter were bitches.”

“Really stupid,” Percy agrees, to cover the sudden pounding of his heart. He clears his throat. “So... what does this mean? Are we...?”

“Take me on a real date,” Annabeth says, and there, the beginning of a sparkle is back in her eye. “And we’ll see.”

Percy nods and tries not to grin like an idiot. “Okay,” he says, his throat suddenly dry. “I’ll do that.”

*

There’s a new video uploaded to the Eros website several months later.

The video opens with stills from the shoot. It’s Percy and Annabeth, in a diner of sorts, and even though it’s still an Eros shoot something about it almost feels—different, this time. Maybe it’s the fact that instead of cool and muted it’s warm and friendly, with Annabeth in mustard yellow and Percy in red, and the lights of the diner behind them soft and hazed. In the first picture, Annabeth is talking, and Percy is looking over at her, grinning. In the next, they have milkshakes in front of them, and Percy has pulled out his straw from his drink and is sucking the end of it, whilst Annabeth looks on, eyes creased in amusement. The next only seems frames away from the last – instead of sucking, Percy is now blowing out of the straw, and Annabeth looks indignant as some of it hits her. But the last is what’s really different, because in the last Percy has his arm around her and their heads are resting against each other. The hand dangling from Annabeth’s shoulder is playing with her straw, and he’s talking earnestly to the camera, and Annabeth – she’s looking at him with probably the softest expression anyone has seen on her.

That already creates a sense of intrigue. By the time the video properly starts, the viewers are on the edge of their seats.

The screen is black, but the video fades in with the sound of general background chatter, the scrape of chairs, footsteps against linoleum. Then the screen lights up with the video – Percy and Annabeth seated at a table, sat next to each other. Annabeth is looking down at the menu and Percy is peering down over her shoulder, an arm around her shoulder, winding a stray curl around his finger.

“Eros, Percy and Annabeth, take one,” a voice says behind the camera. It must be a friend – Percy is grinning at whoever it is, and Annabeth looks fond. “Okay, guys, this is just super casual. We’re just doing an exposé for the website. As you know, the readers are kind of really interested in you.”

“Well, we’re interesting people,” Percy says.

Annabeth rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “What do they want to know?” she asks the person behind the camera.

“Well, potentially the details on your relationship.”

“Yeah, Annabeth,” Percy says, slightly smugly. “Why don’t you give them the hot goss on our _relationship_.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “He’s going to get even more insufferable throughout, I promise you.”

“It’s to be expected,” the person behind the camera says, and Percy and Annabeth both laugh. “Okay, so, the big question everyone wants to know: can you confirm that you are in a relationship?”

They both glance at each other, before looking back at the camera. “Definitely,” Percy says. “We even got married over the summer.”

“That did not happen,” Annabeth is quick to assure.

Percy just smirks knowingly at the camera.

“And how did this come about? How did you two meet?”

Percy looks at Annabeth. “You tell ‘em, babe.”

Annabeth takes a sip of her milkshake. “We met on set,” she says. “Percy’s test-shoot was a chemistry test with me.”

“First impressions?” the person asks.

“She was sort of stuff of legends,” Percy says. “I was suitably terrified. She even smoked and everything.”

Annabeth smiles at him. “I remember thinking he was really annoying. He was—goofy, and inappropriate, and I thought completely unprofessional. But then we did the test, and—he is all of those things, but he’s also so much more. I think I first started to fall in love with them in that moment.”

Percy looks at her. “Really?”

“You were one of the first people to treat me like a person.”

“Right, so standards were low.”

“Impossibly so, you could have farted on me and I would have thought highly. But it wasn’t just that. I don’t know. When you know, you just know, I guess.”

The nterviewer sounds amused. “Well, you heard it here first. Anyting else to say?”

“Just that I love her,” Percy says.

“And I love you,” Annabeth tells the interviewer earnestly.

The interviewer laughs. “And with that, we’ll end it. Thanks, guys.”

“No problem!” Percy says. “Any time to wax poetic about my girlfriend.”

The video cuts off halfway through Annabeth’s ensuing laughter. On the black screen, the text FILMED BY: PIPER MCLEAN appears, followed shortly by STARRING: PERCY JACKSON AND ANNABETH CHASE OF EROS PUBLICATIONS.

The video hits one million hits within the first three hours.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed!


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